I was reluctant to join Twitter when it was new. Eventually I did, though. And I got to like it.

Some people bemoan how “people are always looking at their phones” these days, but I can only speak for myself about how having the Internet readily at hand has made me happier. Back before I had a “smartphone” when I was caught out in the world, I didn’t look around with greater appreciation or some other idyllic feeling. My mind was just as chaotic then as it was after I got the phone, I just had to deal with it in different ways. I remember sitting in waiting rooms and just arranging everything on the tables so that they were at right angles to one another. I often used to just throw coins around randomly, like just hucking pennies into the street and such. I did minor graffiti on many occasions. All this was stuff I did just because I didn’t have something better to focus on.

Twitter was never the most important use for my newfangled high-tech phones, but it was high on the list. It would allow me, at any time, to check and see if any of the people I cared to hear about had said anything I might like to read. It was a source of entertainment I could pull out of my pocket when I needed it, and also it kept me feeling like I was connected to society around me. And sometimes I made dumb jokes on there*. And, perhaps most importantly, Twitter confirmed that I am the Pope now:

But it is now past time to leave that particular social media site. For what it’s worth, I have joined Bluesky, an up and coming rival for Twitter’s userbase. It is currently invitation-only but it has enough people on there that I can usually find something entertaining when I crave it (Which is good because Canada doesn’t have pennies anymore). But I will miss what Twitter was when I enjoyed it.

*Making dumb jokes on Twitter was never my favourite usage for it. I know the common belief is that we need to be careful what we say on the Internet because it sticks around forever, but a lot of the time that just ain’t true. I crave permanence and the Internet is an ephemeral place. If I had my way, everything I ever posted on Contains2 (or its Geocities predecessor the Adam West Batcave) would all be accessible on this website, but they just aren’t. This is why I got Marq to make a thing for me so that the things I posted on Twitter would show up on this site too (they also helped keep things visually more appealing here for a couple years), but that program eventually stopped working. Before I fully leave Twitter I am going to go through and find any jokes worth repeating here or turning into Phone Guys strips or whatever. But no matter how much I salvage, I’ll be losing something. That’s the Internet for ya.

Well, this site is meant to be a monument to my life or whatever, so I really ought to mention that I got robbed at gunpoint for the first time yesterday.

I was, as usual, working my restaurant job and it went like this: Someone orders two large pizzas and a two-litre of pop for delivery, so I drive to the location. Pretty normal so far. There were no lights on in the place, so I call the number I’d been given and, after a few failed attempts, get through to the guy. He says something like “Oh, it’s actually 61-B, around back” so I go around back and there are still no lights on. But there are woods behind the place, and a man steps out of them. I’ve seen weirder on the job, so I just assume maybe he’d been over there smoking or something. He approaches and asked if I have change for a hundred dollar bill. I have a little bag with the money I use as a float, but I had taken in no cash that night, so all I had in there was what I bring at the start of the shift, which would have been just enough to give him his change if I used a bunch of coin. I ask him if he minds getting the coin, he says he did not, so I put the food and drink down on a patio chair in that back yard and I start counting coins to make the change.

As I’m trying to count the cash in the dark, he says “Hey” and I look up and he’s got a gun pointed in my face. I’m obviously flustered, so he I give him the money and leave the food (the pizzas still in the warmer bag I brought them in), and he starts yelling at me “Now get away from my house!” so I start leaving, but he notices I have a phone in my hand, and he makes me give him that as well. I remember giving an exasperated sigh when he asked for the phone. In fact, I don’t think I was at any point as scared as he hoped. Taking the phone, he again starts saying “Get away from my house!” and maybe “You have two seconds!” or something to that effect and there was something in his voice that made me assume he was trying to frighten me. I figure a man in that situation is probably himself scared, so I feel like he was maybe trying to get me more visibly scared as a power trip.

In any case, there’s no way that was actually that guy’s house. If it wasn’t just some sort of weird rambling, I feel like his repeated insistence that it was may have been some sort of “criminal mastermind” plan to make me assume he actually lived there to, I guess, throw us off the scent or something? In any case, this guy was an idiot and bad at robbing me. He got about forty or fifty dollars (largely in coin), sure. And I’m assuming he took the food, even if I didn’t see him do it. And, of course, my phone. But you know what he didn’t get? My effing wallet, which had at least twice that amount of money in it plus credit cards and whatnot, was in my pocket untouched. I don’t know what his transportation situation looked like, but if he’d taken both my phone and my car, he’d have left me stranded on that street and would have had a lot more of a lead for a getaway (not that he’d know I’d refuse to awaken the occupants of the home and would instead have walked to a gas station or whatever to get help). What I’m saying is he’s bad at his job.

I’ve got to say, I’m also kind of annoyed because I aim to live my life as a very boring person, and being able to honestly say “I’ve looked down the barrel of a gun being aimed at me with ill intent” is not as boring as I’d like. It’s probably more common in this world than I’d prefer, but it’s not boring.

But you know what I can say now that I actually have looked down that barrel and thought I might die in a moment and not even have time to mentally register that it happened? I can say this: I miss my phone! I have not gone five waking minutes since this happened without reaching for my phone. I am addicted to my phone and I don’t regret it. But what’s worse is the loss of photos and notes and text messages that were on there. I’ve been stubborn for too long about figuring out how “cloud storage” or whatever it is works. I’ll definitely bother to figure it out on the next phone, because the amount of stuff I’ve lost hurts.

For posterity, I did have that Google “Find My Device” thing on that phone, but I got my laptop even before I gave my statement to the police, so within a half hour of the robbery, and it could not detect the phone. I can only assume he destroyed the phone or something. I miss it so much.

I feel like I should, for posterity, note on my little web site here that I had to get a new phone. About a week ago, some sort of problem with reading the SIM card thing, so I was unable to make calls and such (this happened during a shift at work, naturally, when calling is important). So anyway, I got a new phone.

But here’s the thing: The new phone has a different kind of SIM card, so the old one doesn’t fit into it. Chances are it wouldn’t have worked anyway, since the SIM was the problem with the old phone, but I thought at the very least it would be able to fit. Isn’t that the point of the SIM card? So that I could take it to the new phone and get my contacts and stuff?

I dunno, whatever. Technology hates me.

Well, I’ve had the new phone almost a week now. Here’s some thoughts on the experience so far: I don’t like the fact that when I pick up my phone, I have to hit an additional button to make it be a phone. My old phone, I flipped it open and it was a phone. This one, I do a swipe of the screen and it is still a computer, not yet a phone. I have to then tell it to be a phone. Similarly, if I answer a call from my apartment intercom to buzz someone in, I used to be able to just answer the call and hit the nine key. Now I have to answer the call, then tell it to give me a keyboard, and then I can hit the nine. I also had an issue with my phone doing things while it was in my pocket, so I had to set it so I trace a pattern with my finger before it I can even get into the thing. I’m an old man! I don’t want to be spending all my time turning my phone into a phone!

One definite upside: the ability to use apostrophes when texting. My old phone couldn’t do that.

I should, I suppose, make it known that I have a new cellular telephone. It’s one of those newfangled technologyphones with a screen that I will inevitably break and feel terrible about. Still, my previous phone, a proper phone that flipped open Captain Kirk-style, decided it was no longer willing to work well. It had to be done. I’m reluctant to move into the age of superphones, but I guess it was time.

One upside, though, I spent a long time putting my Contacts into the new phone, but I guess they’re on the SIM card thing now, so I’ll never have to do that again. One downside, I’m already sick of fingerprints on my screen.

Anyway, I’m sure I’ll have some things go wrong as I try to adjust to new technology, so I’ll be back to describe that, I am sure.