Three small constants run through my life; morning tea, a bagel at lunch, and a smiley face in my correspondence. Doesn’t matter if it’s on blog comments, letters and cards, or texts. I insert a smiley face to brighten and emphasize.
With my smartphone, I have more icons than necessary, although it’s great to have the actual yellow faces alongside those made from a colon and parenthesis. My youngest loves emoticons; a couple of summers ago, she was texting with me, or what she thought. Actually my eldest, home from university, was replying on my cell. Finally youngest daughter wrote specifically to her sister, asking if I was mad; no smiley faces were included with my answers, which of course weren’t mine at all, hee hee.
One of the benefits of my new device is predictive texting, which I use about half the time. Texting with a keyboard is a huge bonus, but looking for the anticipated word is still something done sporadically. However, as soon as I’ve written my text, I look to the left corner, where that smiley face waits. With my eldest and husband, I use colons and parentheses, but a whole array is just a tap away. With my youngest, I have a virtual language at my disposal. She especially likes the princess crown icon.
Texting whole novels isn’t my speed, although youngest daughter has written some tomes. But texting has been a part of my life since we moved back to California. Slowly I was dragged into that world, but now I covet being able to drop a quick note, receive a photo from family. My mom sent this one of my dad when I missed his last doctor’s appointment. Mom just got a new phone too, but she didn’t go for the web option. All she wanted was a device to make and receive phone calls, but a new camera wasn’t sneezed at.
I’ve found I barely access the web with my new cell, but texting has become more than just pushing a key three times to get the correct letter. It’s full of emoticons, better photographs, a deeper sense of communication. Not that a smiley face tells the whole story, nor a princess crown. But few people write letters anymore, and emails are even becoming passe. For my children’s generation, it’s texting, or Facebook. As I don’t FB, well…
I have a novel in mind, a sequel actually, to a book I wrote in 2011, about lifelong friends who employ answering machines as a means of corresponding. Phil and Julia leave long rambling messages, or short interrupted clips, and by the end of the book, their young children even leave messages. The sequel, if I ever get around to it, is mostly about those kids, Phil’s daughter J.J. and Julia’s son Abe, but I’ve hesitated writing it for, amoung other reasons, what modern piece of correspondence to use. Probably texting, but they’ll also use Facebook, as well as the simple face-to-face manner of speech. J.J. and Abe won’t be the type to include smiley faces; they’re far closer than an emoticon can convey, which nearly destroys J.J. when Abe disappears. That lack of instant communication shreds a young woman’s heart, also devastates Abe’s parents, Phil and his wife Crystal as well. I’m not a helicopter parent, but I do appreciate keeping in touch with just a few taps, smiley faces and princess crowns aside. Phil, Julia, and especially J.J. will now view their cell phones with contempt; no matter how they wish otherwise, no texts from Abe are forthcoming.
You never write, you never call… That old adage seems quaint, in that other than texts and the occasional email, who does write anymore, other than writers? When I shopped for my cell, I wanted a quality camera above anything else. The rest was gravy, because calls and texts are side notes to a smartphone. It’s about the apps, the pixels, the size. Mine’s a little on the big side, but I’m adapting. Maybe it’s better for a large screen, easier to see all those smiley, and not-so-smiley, faces. But the only time I use a frowny face is on a text or blog comment. On cards I send to family and friends, it’s always a big fat grin.
Texts aren’t my only manner of reaching out; I’m a snail-mail junkie. I suppose texting is just a modern off-shoot of that dying art, which I’ll expound upon soon…