From a dog's eyes: Too much screen time?

Sad puppy eyes. They melt my heart, man. Especially the woeful eyes of my little dachshund. She'll stare up from the floor, one of her toys at her feet. She's clearly still game for continued romps around the living room, even though we've played all evening after she spent an hour or more at the dog park and on a walk -- or more frustratingly, all day at doggie daycare.

Me? All I want to do is veg out on the couch in the hours before bed to watch some TV, catch up on tweets and Instagram posts, and perhaps edit some photos of my own. 

But there she is, tail wagging casually, soft growls to gather my attention back to her, ears down and eyes wide, clearly unsure why I wouldn't want to throw the toy across the room for the 50th time that night.

Later, I might fire up the desktop computer to pay some bills and check my accounts. And once in bed, I might stay up for awhile, my tablet illuminating the dark as I watch episodes of This Old House or continue my slow play-through of Final Fantasy III. 

And I'll often wonder: Does this little creature ever wonder why her people stare at glowing rectangles so frequently? But really, I know it's me wondering if I spent too much of my life staring at glowing rectangles.

How Do I Add Friends To My Real Life Profile?

As noted in my last post, I recently upgraded my phone. I wasn't dreading going into the Verizon Wireless store to replace my sputtering old warhorse, but it wasn't how I wanted to be spending part of a sunny Sunday afternoon, either.

But as far as consumer experiences go, it was among the more enjoyable I've had in recent memories. In addition to leaving with a new Samsung Galaxy S3, though, I also walked away with a question (beyond whether or not I chose the right phone for me): Why can't adults ask each other if they want to be friends?

Bottom line: I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation I had with the sales rep over the duration of my visit. 

Talked Batman, wive's purses, martial arts, warp drive, man caves and more with @verizon sales guy while obtaining new phone.
— Stephen Shoemaker (@Steve_Shoe) April 21, 2013

Maybe it's just me. I readily admit to social awkwardness and shyness. Despite spending a good 45-minutes with this guy through the entire selection, purchase, and activation process for my new rig, I couldn't imagine dropping a line like, "Dude. You're cool. Grab a brew sometime?"

Is that something newly-acquainted adults are allowed to do?

This has happened in the past. I'm still convinced the sales rep at Best Buy who sold us our TV could have been a cool friend. I go so far as to daydream his wife would have hit it off with my wife, and the four of us could be friends, too! She sounded pretty cool, my wife is cool -- it's totally a potential match. He's out there somewhere -- OK, well he's likely still at Best Buy unless he found employment elsewhere.

"Hey, bro. Remember selling my wife and I a TV about a year ago? Want to grab some wings when you get off work?"

Come to think of it, I was buying a Samsung then, too! Hypothesis: Everyone that sells me a Samsung product is a potential friend.

Does This Phone Make My Butt Look Big? Or, How Do You Know Which Phone Is 'The One?'

Much love to the 'Droids.

Because workaday worries like the mortgage, national violence and global security apparently aren't enough for me, I've decided to sweat whether I upgraded to the "right phone." Clearly a first-world problem.

I have attachment issues. I admit it. Over two years ago I wrote a swan song to my first and only foray into BlackBerry products. In the time since, I came to really like my HTC Incredible (I'm loathe to apply "love" to a piece of hardware) and the Android system. A lot happened to me during those two-plus years, and in hindsight I found a rhythm (I don't write rhymes) and reason to owning a smartphone that involved social media; taking, editing, and posting photos to Tumblr and Instagram; infusing meal preparation and consumption with soulful jazz and the overnight hours with soothing soundscapes; and general content consumption in random moments of downtime. Average stuff, but an integral part of my day-to-day.

I liked the phone so much I intended to keep it until it died. Sadly, that moment came this past weekend. I'm no expert, but when your phone tells you to wipe partitions and clears all of your accumulated data, it's about to give up the ghost. But hey, I made it eight months past my upgrade eligibility.

Decisions, decisions

I was pretty intent that I'd just upgrade to the Incredible 4G. I'm a creature of habit, and the latest iteration seems to be a continuation of what I like and am accustomed to. But for grins, I thought I'd take a look at the Samsung Galaxy SIII. At the very least, I was thoroughly entertained by the early marketing that poked fun at iPhone fanatics. Plus, every man in existence LOVES the "Probably shouldn't watch it on the plane" spot.

Shouldn't have done it. I started to haver. Either would be fine phones, I reasoned, and both had their pros and cons in my estimation. Chief concern was the larger screen size of the GS3. Contrary to -- apparently -- everyone, I like smaller screens. But I DO love the user interface on my Samsung tablet, and the phone is quite similar. I like that I can choose manual focus on the HTC camera, though. Then again, there's a burst mode feature in the GS3, and I've read great things about the camera overall.

Long story short, I initially opted for the Incredible, then second-guessed myself and went with the Samsung (after the sales rep rummaged around in the back to bring out a selection of cases for the HTC).

A lot of phone to get used to

Let's get this right out of the way: This is a cool device, for sure. And I can do all the stuff I need/want to do with it, including, I guess, phone calls. So when I say I'm sweating whether or not it's the right phone for me, what am I talking about? Why, the same thing most whiny, entitled, nasal-voiced young Americans with non-calloused hands are talking about: nuances that are inconsequential in the grand scheme of life!

It's so big! (That's what she said.) I'm sure I'll adapt to the size in due time. (That's what she said.). Still, it's a lot to handle, especially when operating with one hand. (That's what she said.)

The stupid shutter sound on the camera can't be disabled completely. The best option I've found that doesn't involved downloading a crappy third-party camera app or rooting the device is simply to mute the ringer and notifications. Which means that every time I want to take a photo and not have the loud KRR-CHKK of the shutter go off, I need to remember to mute the phone before opening the camera app. Lame.

(At least I'm not on Sprint, which mandates the shutter sound even if sound is muted -- or so I've read. You know, so pervs can't stealthily take photos up your kilt and just have to use the old mirror-taped-to-shoe bit.)

It's so big! (That's what she said.) I mean seriously, the screen alone is as big as my old phone, and the device itself is about a quarter the size of my tablet.

Speaking of my tablet: Yeah, it's kind of cool to have very similar interface on my phone. But I also try to use the tablet for different purposes than my phone (maybe partly to justify having it?). My hypothesis: Having a different UI on the phone helps reinforce that.

It's so big! At least it fits where I need it to. (All together now: That's what she said.)

Give it some time

These are all quibbles, I know. Let me state again: This is a first-world problem. But these devices are so ubiquitous in our lives now, is it really any different than buying the right style or fit of clothing, the right breed of dog, the house that feels like "the one," or attending the right college? Why saddle a mistake and ride it for the next few years if you're not sure it's going to be as smooth a ride as you hope?

I'm also positive that had I gone with the Incredible 4G, I'd be wondering if I should have gotten the SG3. 

(Maybe this is a sign: As I was typing this post, I got a automated text from VZW FREE MSG: "Congrats on your new Droid Incredible! Visit blah-blah-link for tips to get you started.")

I've got two weeks in which I can return the phone, if I so choose, though the $35 restocking fee is a mild deterrent. Part of me wanted to rush back to the Verizon store after work Monday and make the swap for the Incredible, but I figure I should give it a week and see how I adjust. I plan to put it through the paces, especially with photos (one of which appears in this post). But I'm going to grit my teeth each time I forget to mute the KRR-CHKK.

Will words, actions ever drown out the sound of gunfire?

Words. Tonight as I write, the nation is at a loss for them. And though the media is doing their job and talking about this tragedy incessantly, their words are meant to inform, to provide details, context and parallels, but not explain. Words can't explain this.

The saying that actions speak louder than words is only true when there's action. As TV broadcasts, magazine articles, tweets, and online comments have reminded us all today, there has been no action on gun control in this country for some time, and our mental health system is a shambles. But loudly proclaimed words seem to be enough to mask inactivity.

Yet over the last few years words have been incessantly telling me of the power of social media, of the change effect it has when its participants are properly frothed. So I wonder now if our collective words, fueled by shock, horror, outrage, grief, confusion, anger, and compassion, will whip up a frenzy of change in this nation, and lead to real action -- and not more empty words and hollow gestures.

It's time for words to speak loudly for action.

Social Stiches

Whenever I feel the need to bemoan the changes the Internet and social media have wrought to human interaction, I'm going to remember what follows to help keep my perspective balanced. The Storify below was compiled by my previous employer, The Saratogian, as a community -- not defined by school or municipal boundaries, or even states -- took to social media to make a horrendous situation just a little bit better for two survivors.

For words more eloquent then I could convey, here's a moving blog post by Laura Amato, a sports writer at sister paper The Record, that you should also read.

From SNL: Real retribution for online comments

Pity a show like this doesn't actually exist. Daring local newspapers should take this idea and run with it. It's a web-video gold mine.

This is from the Oct. 2, 2011 episode of "Saturday Night Live," with host Melissa McCarthy.

Symbolic subjugation to our iDevices

We're all slaves to our technology, whether we're
Apple fanboys or not. (Image credit: Unknown)

In light of the passing of Steve Jobs on Wednesday, probably paired with my having read this essay at GOOD titled "Why I Dumped my iPhone — And I'm Not Going Back," I had a thought today while typing a run-of-the-mill e-mail.

When referring to ourselves in writing, even in the middle of a sentence, we use "I," capitalized.  This convention symbolically demonstrates the importance we put on the ego, on ourselves as individuals.

Apple's product-naming convention, on the other hand, famously puts the "I" in lowercase, and capitalizes the first letter of the device name: iPod, iPhone, iPad.

Symbolically, this demonstrates the subjugation of the ego to the device, the tool, the machine.

With these products (and competitors') so ubiquitous in most of our daily lives, that symbolism becomes very profound.