steroidal pocket dialing

Someone should take my smartphone away from me.

Maybe not that modernly-balaclavaed corporate bandit. But someone.

We all have a relative or two who struggles with the cornucopia of information available through a smartphone. The series of Samsung Galaxies that I have owned over the past decade have almost completely replaced my laptop for matters internet.

I read the newspaper on my Samsung. I read The Economist and National Review on my Samsung. My Spanish lessons are on my telephone. And then there is the whole world wide web with its cascades of information and misinformation. I do not need my laptop for any of that.

The only reason I have kept my laptop is to communicate with you good folk through Mexpatriate. Writing and posting essays with my telephone is not an impossibility. I have done it. Usually when I am in an airport terminal or on an airplane. But the tiny keys and limited screen are a puttery bother.

I appreciate my telephone. But, after yesterday, I am not certain I am qualified any longer to own one.

While in the middle of preparing dinner, I realized I did not have any cream. I didn't even have milk. So, I waddled down to the corner grocery. I had been reading The Economist before I left the house. At some point I tucked my telephone under my arm rather than putting it back in my pocket. I have no idea why I did that.

But in the three-block walk back to my house, I managed to complete an electronic miracle. When I looked at my telephone I had mailed the article I was reading to two Facebook friends. But that is only part of it. Not only did I mail it to them, I also created a Facebook Messenger group.

The mechanics are simply explained. There is a "share" function on each of the articles in The Economist. When pushed, a screen of options for sharing appears -- Facebook, e-mail, Facebook Messenger. That type of thing. If Messenger is selected, a list of contacts shows up. One option is to create a group and then to choose the members of the group. The message is now ready to send.

I am not certain of the odds, but I managed to choose at least five options with my telephone under my arm before the article was sent off to Jordan and Joyce. I am not certain I am capable of doing all that consciously, let alone accidentally.

We have all pocket-dialed someone in error. This is the same thing. Just a bit more complex.

If I did not know better, I would think my telephone is getting a wee bit jealous of being confined so often in the house.

But it did give me an opportunity to talk with at least two people about something other than the coronavirus.

Oh, wait, the article was about the coronavirus.