The world suddenly became a much more frightening place this past weekend when my iPhone died en route to a distant convention.
I should have known something was going wrong when it became very, very hot and the battery indicator showed red and quickly went from 3% to zero before my horrified eyes. Recharging didn't work and neither did a borrowed charger restore the blessed green. Because I was traveling light I had neither my iPad nor laptop with me. No problem says I and then tried for an hour to remember first my wife's phone number and then ANY goddamn number I might be able to use. When none came to mind I used the hotel computer to get on the internet and send an email. That's when I recalled that security conscious me had enabled two-factor identification on ALL of my email accounts. Since my cell was out of service, I could not get any of the four confirmation codes that would open an account (my passwords were on the phone, along with all my panel notes, reminders, schedule and even my plane e-tickets.)
The horrifying truth hit me that I had surrendered ownership of my memory to a chunk of hi-tech plastic, glass, and software without which I have no agency save for the cards in my wallet.
Fortunately my clever wife, who had worked herself into a fine fluff when I didn't call as promised, managed to track me down at the hotel and left her phone number so we could resume contact.
I now have a new phone and a list of phone numbers with the wallet cards.
The worse part of it was that, through the entire agonizing process, I could not stop thinking the same thought over and over: There HAS to be an SF story here!
#SFWApro
I should have known something was going wrong when it became very, very hot and the battery indicator showed red and quickly went from 3% to zero before my horrified eyes. Recharging didn't work and neither did a borrowed charger restore the blessed green. Because I was traveling light I had neither my iPad nor laptop with me. No problem says I and then tried for an hour to remember first my wife's phone number and then ANY goddamn number I might be able to use. When none came to mind I used the hotel computer to get on the internet and send an email. That's when I recalled that security conscious me had enabled two-factor identification on ALL of my email accounts. Since my cell was out of service, I could not get any of the four confirmation codes that would open an account (my passwords were on the phone, along with all my panel notes, reminders, schedule and even my plane e-tickets.)
The horrifying truth hit me that I had surrendered ownership of my memory to a chunk of hi-tech plastic, glass, and software without which I have no agency save for the cards in my wallet.
I now have a new phone and a list of phone numbers with the wallet cards.
The worse part of it was that, through the entire agonizing process, I could not stop thinking the same thought over and over: There HAS to be an SF story here!
#SFWApro
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