Ode to my smartphone

You always think there will be more time.

More time to share the things you love.

More time to do the right things.

In the middle of an inspirational day, I look down at you – and you stare blankly back at me. No sign of life.

Nothing I can do can get you to speak to me and I know this is serious.


I race home, hoping to get you quickly on life support, before it’s too late.

As I wait for a sign, I think of how we met more than two years ago, and how we’ve been together every day since.

You make sure I get to work on time.

You remind me of the important things I have to do.

You always have the answer to my questions.

You connect me to the outside world when I don’t feel like going out there myself.

You’ve been my faithful sidekick through good times and bad.

And you can remind me of both at the push of a button.


What have I done?

Lately I’ve taken you for granted.

I haven’t given you the backup you needed.

I failed to pay attention to your appearance, lackadaisical in my attempts to keep you clean.

I ignored you for a newer model, my head turned by a flashy new camera and wraparound screen.

If only you would awaken and show me a sign of life.

I promise I’ll be better – starting with immediate backup and a long bath.


How can I fix you?
You’re usually the one with the answers.

I have to go the long way to find out, and buried on the Internet is a chance.

A possibility.

A Hail Mary.

If this doesn’t work, we’ll need a specialist.

I follow the steps, pushing the buttons in concert, silently counting to 10…11…12…13…15…

Then voila!

A sound.

A flash.

A white apple appears on your screen.

And just like that, my trusty smartphone has come back to me.