Thumbnail image from Pixabay
By Susan Goldfein
Thank you, Microsoft and Apple. You may have saved my marriage. Because of you, my husband and I hardly argue any more. That’s because we hardly talk anymore. Instead, we send each other abbreviated, misspelled, unpunctuated messages via e-mail and texting.
“Honey,” I write in an e-mail from my computer to his smart phone, “I made a date with the Browns this Saturday night. Put it on your iCalendar.” I communicate this to him electronically because I know what I’ve done won’t make him happy. He doesn’t care for the Browns, but I could put them off no longer. If I deliver the news in person, I’ll have to watch him roll his eyes, drop his head, grimace, and act like I just invited Hitler for brunch. Then I’ll remind him of all the occasions when I tolerated his obnoxious fraternity brothers, and voila! We’re arguing.
Instead, I receive an e-response which says: “If I haf 2!” I’m reasonably certain he engaged his annoying body language, but the dog doesn’t mind.
Then there’s the time I backed the new car into a tree. “Hun,” I text, “I’ll b late. Car accident.” I quickly turn off my phone. Had I called him to report this, or waited until I got home; my “Hun” would’ve reacted similarly to his tribesman Attila. This, of course, would reduce me to tears, which in turn would result in an outpouring of counterattacks when I regain my composure. Fortunately, none of this has to happen anymore. Instead, my text message raised just enough concern that by the time I get home he’s so relieved that I’m safe, the dangling rear bumper is of little consequence.
So, I’m pleased to say that my e-marriage is flourishing. We are currently 4G but are seriously considering a whole new level of happiness as a 5G couple. I feel giddy anticipating the possibilities!
I’d be less than honest, however, if I don’t admit there’s a downside to this electronic passion. Since my husband purchased the latest iPhone, I haven’t seen his face. The new device demands his entire attention. When he’s not busy responding to its dings and chirps, he’s e-mailing, texting, phoning, reading headlines or trying to figure out what else the damn thing can do. It’s been three weeks now. I’m starting to forget what he looks like, but I’m very well acquainted with the bald spot on top of his head.
I realize that progress is not without sacrifice. Even so, occasional eye contact would be nice. Who knows? Maybe there’s an app for that!
