Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Canna You Hear Me Now? How Abouta Now? Anda Now?

Many moons ago, in an Italian household far far away....well, not really THAT far away... but it makes for a better opening... a little italian man (a.k.a. my dad) had a cell phone, but decided he did not like his cell phone, nor his plan, because he barely used it.

Present Day: My dad decides to enter the Cell Phone Age again, but he wants a phone...just a phone...and nothing but the phone. No frills. No extras. No "I'm Not Only A Phone But I'm Also a Microwave, Coffee Maker, Popcorn Popper, HouseBoat, and Massage Therapist" phone. A blackberry device would've sent him screaming, not only in his native tongue, but in all tongues.

So the spouse and I ventured to the nearest "wireless" store to investigate some plans.

We had introduced him to Verizon - but the whole idea of $39.99/mos didn't swing. Not that he can't afford it, he just didn't see the need, especially because he only averaged 50 minutes with his last cell phone plan. My sister had looked into Allel - same pricing as Verizon, pretty much- plus an activation fee to make him run screaming, not only in his native tongue, but in all tongues. (Oh, wait - that was me who ran screaming over Alltel's activation fee. Like father like daughter - who knew I could speak Chinese).

My mom had mentioned that Sprint offers a plan for $29.99/mos - and mom was right. 200 minutes. Weekends and nights free. A very basic plan. A plan... just a plan... and nothing but the plan.

Even better, the plan came with a very basic phone...with a rebate...that covered the cost of the phone. It was pure and simple. Just what the little italian ordered.

So the spouse left me hanging around the store (while he ran to get my dad), staring (i.e. drooling) at a picture of Captain Jack Sparrow on the cover of a Verizon pamphlet, and listening to some old guy complain to a sale's rep about his plan, his phone, his knees, his joints, his aches, his pains. Life was good.

Enter the godfather (a.k.a. my dad). "What you got?"

I show him the little red phone, pure and simple, nothing but a phone. No frills. No bells. No whistles. Just a phone. A tiny red phone. Pure and simple. I place it in his hand, proudly, as if introducing him to his grandchild for the first time.

"Dat's too small."

I'm crushed. The phone sat dwarfed in his hand. It might as well have been the size of a quarter.

"How about dis one?"

He pointed to a rather burly phone - a manly man phone - so the sale's rep brings it out from behind the showcase and hands it to my dad.

"Dis is better."

He doesn't even open it. He just lets it sit in his hand, getting a feel for the contraption.

I take the phone from his hand and flip it open. User Interface looks a little complex for a guy who wants just a phone, and nothing but. This puppy has a camera, a camcorder, web access, media files, a little bit of this, a lot of that. I mean, my dad is the handiest person you will ever meet - he can build a fireplace from the ground up, by himself, as well as fix a car, a toilet, a roof, a loose tooth, and just about perform heart surgery - but the guy is not familiar with computers or cell phones.

I flip the phone closed and shake my head. Too much too soon.

We inquire about another one that looks just as manly man, and the interface is a little easier to use. No camera. Some frills but not too many. And he likes-ah the way it feels.

He wears it well. How much?

"$169. But you get a $50 rebate."

"I take it."

"You'll want a case for it. How about a leather case?"

So much for just a phone...and nothing but.

My husband, dad, his cool new phone in his cool leather case, and I walk out together, one, big, happy cellular family...kinda...cuz no one else in our family has Sprint.