I'm always the first to say it: I am a bit of a Luddite. Several years ago, my friends were astounded when I acquired a television (my first one!), computer, mobile phone, DVD player, and a microwave (also a first), all in approximately a week. My life suddenly lurched forward into the late 20th century...a few years after the century had ended. There I stayed, happily -- proudly, even -- behind the times.
Then, one fateful month a couple years ago, I took one cautious step into early adopterhood. It has revolutionized my life.
I took my relatively new Razr phone with me on vacation to Japan in July of 2007. A friend had suggested a hike of Mt. Fuji, and much to his shock, I said, "How soon do we leave?" The Razr wouldn't function as a phone in Japan, but it was a handy small camera and that worked for me. My friend and his husband had recently (not 2 weeks before) purchased the newly released iPhone. I scoffed at the idea -- expensive, untried technology, I said; let me know when you're sure it works.
Well, they let me fiddle with their new iPhones on the flight there. I took pictures from atop Fuji on one. I played with the other on the train. I found it addictive.
And I lost my Razr in Japan.
I think I left it in a locker at an on-sen (hot spring bath/spa/sauna) at the base of the volcano. My friends jokingly suggested that I stood in the buffeting wind on the lip of Fuji's crater and tossed in my Razr. "OOPS! Oh dear, I seem to have misplaced my phone. Darn it all to heck."
When we returned to the States, I needed a new mobile phone. I was simply going to purchase another Razr. I knew it worked, and knew how to use it. But something (let's call it a tendril of fate) stopped me. I remembered my friends' iPhones, and had a moment of decadence. I called the store and purchased literally the last one they had. The woman who walked into the store 30 seconds after I had shot me hate faces that would make Idi Amin blanch.
I registered my iPhone an hour later. My life has never been the same.
Before the change, I used to browse the web occasionally at work when things got slow. "Blog" was a concept at the far left fringe of my vocabulary. I texted on the random occasion, but really rarely even answered my mobile phone. I left it at home all the time, even though it had become my only phone line. If word got to me with long enough lead time, I might participate in some occasional activism. But generally, I was off in my own little world much of the time. I was relatively blissfully disconnected.
With my new iPhone, texting was easy...I could browse the web anytime, anywhere. I could, well, start keeping up with news and people. And I found reasons for activism.
The weekend after I purchased my new little iPhone, I attended a house party with the couple with whom I'd hiked Fuji two weeks prior. They were out in the garage with a bunch of other folks -- all of them recent iPhone adopters, all playing with the newest, most fashionable gadget. I've never been Ms. Fashionable; I still wear flannel long after its early '90s heyday (I still have and wear the same shirts!). But I had joined the club! While we delighted in iPhone features there among the In Crowd, my friends flagged down another friend who was a technology junkie like them, and he joined the conversation. He took my picture and my phone number. Fourteen months later, I took his last name.
Yes, that's right: the iPhone got me a husband.
I had never been in a long-term relationship. To be honest, I wasn't planning ever to have one. As a result, I was generally rather disconnected from the civil rights fight. Civil unions didn't apply to me; I lived in what I felt was a little blue coccoon of safety when it came to my civil rights beyond relationship recognition. I had no major reasons to fight, from my viewpoint.
My iPhone's inadvertent acquisition of a husband connected my heart and soul with the civil rights struggle of my life. I wear a wedding ring that, for me, means I literally can't put the struggle down. And it has intensified my involvement in politics in general. My iPhone found me reasons to speak out, and places and ways to do so (I first surfed into DKos on the iPhone).
These days, I do more and more on this little device. I listen to music, watch videos, take notes during meetings, and just today began recording data from my workouts on it. The last picture before we sent my beloved pup to the Rainbow Bridge was taken on this phone. I even wrote this diary on it. To be honest, I may even be TOO connected, now that I can check my favorite blogs, the weather, the news, and my closest friends' latest musings at any instant.
I do still have technoresistant genes - I only succumbed to the Facebook Borg a few days ago. But my connection into the web of ties that weaves this world community is far stronger now than it once was - and it all began with a single, seemingly very random step outside my box. I'm an unlikely modern activist, a paragon of the kind of cascade of change that may result from one tiny seemingly inconsequential choice.
At least I never actually used that microwave.