Crisis? Drama?

When is a crisis just drama?

If you had asked me last weekend how I felt about my new phone  . . . well, just be glad you didn’t.

On Friday, I realized that my treasured BlackBerry was not working properly. I took it into Verizon Wireless near our home, hoping it was a simple fix but knowing in my heart that probably I would need a new phone.

Of course, a new phone was the only real solution–most companies make it so difficult to repair anything that getting a replacement is the only sane course. We are a throwaway society.

Ah, but what phone?

I trust the woman who owns this particular franchise, so I followed her advice. She suggested an android device, an LG Ally smartphone. I could get it for the same price it would cost me to send my BlackBerry in for repair (plus the actual cost of repair and parts, not to mention not having the phone for weeks). 

So far, so good. But then panic. We could not offload my calendar or contacts from the Blackberry to the new phone. When I got home I tried some online things she suggested (the calendar and contacts also were in Outlook on my PC), but no luck.

I spent Saturday and Sunday in a stew of anxiety, and mounting anger. Why did this have to happen to ME??????? What would I have to do–recreate my ENTIRE contacts list?

By Monday, I was so desperate that I decided to read the owner’s manual (the reader may chuckle here). I was able to bring my calendar from Outlook on my PC to Google Calendar and my phone. Hooray!

But my contacts? No luck.

So, Tuesday I dialed *611 on my phone to get help from Technical Support. In 10 minutes, the very helpful support staffer had my contacts on my phone. (Note to reader: my ever-helpful husband had suggested this on Friday; you may chuckle again).

Do I like my new phone? Mostly. It has good features, and some to which I am still adjusting.

But crisis . . .  what crisis?

Drama, yes. Crisis, no.