Tag Archives: tech

iPhone Tip


You know when it’s freezing outside and you’re wearing gloves or fuzzy mittens (or you’re a werewolf and have hairy fingertips year-round) and you’re trying to take a picture with your iPhone, or answer your iPhone, or text someone on your iPhone, or do ANYTHING on your iPhone and you CAN’T?

Well, as my little New Year’s present to you, I’ve solved your problem.

There I was in the freezing Colorado dusk vainly trying to slide that little unlock bar across the front of my phone with my gloved finger so I could take a picture. No luck. I kept trying. And by “trying” I mean doing the exact same thing over and over again and hoping for a different result. Stubborn? Yes. Ineffective? Also that.

You know what works though? Licking.

That’s right, kids, the iPhone is just looking for a human touch, appendage indiscriminate. (If you’re squeamish about sanitation, you could use an alcohol swab on the face of the phone pre-licking, but that would also require removing your gloves, so six of one, half dozen of the other. A little dirt never hurt anyone. Think of it as a friendly reminder to your immune system to stay on top of things.)

A little swipe of the tongue and it unlocks. Another touch and photo complete. Your phone just needs a little love, that’s all.

You can thank me later.

@#$(*$! Twitter


There’s been far too much attention granted to Twitter here in the States where it’s not like we’re using it to stage the next revolution, so I won’t add considerably to that heap of noise.

Let me just say this: moderation in all things, people.

I promise you that only your most uninteresting friends care what you just ate, said or posted on your blog. (It’s not cross-marketing if you’re using one channel of communication merely to state that you’re using another channel. That’s call forwarding.)

Likewise, on the other end of the spectrum, Twittering the birth of your first child does seem to me to diminish the importance of the event. Call me old-fashioned.

I had settled on two categories of tweets I like. One, the info tweet from places like MUG (Manhattan User’s Guide) that sends event alerts and such. Fine. Two, the clever tweet, the one-liner dispatched into the ether to substitute for a witty pal when I’m all alone at my desk.

Today, September the 8th, I would like to officially retract my endorsement of that second category.

For a while, I giggled to Favrd‘s stream of favorite tweets but then it went sideways. Reading through them was like having a conversation with someone who’s going for the laugh with everything he says and not paying attention to the rest of the conversation (or his life, it would seem, in the case of these tweeters). You start out thinking he’s funny, but then he thinks he’s so funny that you end up thinking he’s kind of a self-involved a**hole.

Then I read this piece in Wired on how Twitter is the new joke notebook for comedians: they can try out all their unfinished material in a place that’ll archive it for them. So first of all, get a back-up drive and leave me alone. Second, that’s the official word: I’m deleting all you comedians – wanna be and actual – from my following list.

If you want to see who I’m talking about, check out Paul Feig‘s feed. God. What a jerk.

I don’t want your B material, for Chrissake. If I did, I’d come by your apartment and watch you annoy your girlfriend with it. I know Twitter’s free and not $20 + a 2-drink minimum, but I’d much rather pay for actual punchlines than cringe through your practice round. That practice round, by the way, makes me want to never, ever hear you say anything again, so it may cost you my twenty in the end as well as the future of our non-existent but maybe-someday-when-I’m-famous potential friendship.

Show some decency guys. You’re approaching reality TV levels of self-humiliation. My aunt used to say, “If you don’t have something nice to say, come sit by me.” I say, “If you don’t have something interesting to say, shut up.” Some things are just better left unsaid.



I found this in a conference room at my old job. It looks like a piece of tape, but it’s clearly labeled as something else. “Use this to connect to the internet.” Hmm. I can’t figure out how to attach it to the router. Or to my laptop. That interweb can be tricky.

The phone again…

I’m texting R.

I type, “I’m excited about our date!”
My phone types, “I’m excited about our fate!”

That’s also true. Huh.

All right, phone, you win. This time.