As I've said too often, I love my iPhone. But it's not perfect: some apps crash, the calendar isn't as good as on my trusty old Treo, and it hasn't yet learned how to copy and paste. That's OK; I'm patient. It's young, brilliant, and lovely, not yet seasoned but full of potential. I can wait.
It is, however, a bit confused. At certain times of day, from a few different locations in my apartment, it thinks I'm in Texas. Not just anywhere in Texas, but a very specific spot on Town-to-Market Road outside of Houston. It's offered up the name of the closest pharmacy to Town-to-Market Road, and told me there are no restaurants in a 5-mile radius. According to the satellite photo on the GPS Google Map, there's nothing much in that spot except a road, a field, and what look like storage buildings.
I wonder: is someone on Town-To-Market Road outside of Houston at this very moment checking a new iPhone after a long day of work hauling farm equipment, and wondering why it thinks she should go see a movie at Lincoln Plaza Cinemas or check out a hot new restaurant featuring photos of clowns on the wall?
Are we ever really where we think we are?
I am not the only one pondering the philosophical implications of the iPhone. Here's Rabbi Marc Wolf of JTS on Parashat Ekev:
Since I am a self-professed “techno-junkie,” it took considerable restraint to wait the year for the second-generation iPhone to be released. ...
On another matter: Matt Damon speaks for me. Bravo.