Saturday 4 July 2015

The DumbPhone and Deja Vu

I call my phone the DumbPhone. Maybe this will change in the future, but whenever I have to replace my phone I always ask for the free model which is the simplest and least impressive of the lot. I don't like phones; I never have.  I enjoy blogs and other social media to an extent because there is something territorial about them. I feel like I own the space that torthúil occupies, although that's probably an illusion.  Phones on the other hand feel intrusive and outside my control. They ring obnoxiously and interrupt what I'm doing.  I have to talk to people I can't see, which I've never liked. If there's any way to avoid phoning someone, I'll take it. There are a few people I that I truly do enjoy talking with on the phone: I can count them on the fingers of one hand.

I bought my first cell phone in 2005 when I traveled to Europe for a year; altogether I've owned three  phones in the past ten years, including the Dumbphone. The Dumbphone is a flip phone from 2011. It takes calls and makes calls and I have voicemail. I can receive and send texts (keyed in the old fashioned way because there is no keyboard. I don't like texting anymore than I like phones). It's scratched and battered and most recently, my water bottle spilled all over it. I took the battery out and dried it overnight, and lo, the Dumbphone recovered to ring another day.

After the Dumbphone's crisis, however, I decided I should copy whatever media are on it. The Dumbphone has a camera that is about as impressive as its other features, but I have taken a few photos over the years. I actually was able to locate the cable that connects it to my computer, and managed to copy the pictures and one video.

Among the photos were some that gave me unsettling deja vu. I rarely think much about these photos, or consider them of much value. But when I actually looked at them full size, I was surprised by the intense meaning some of them hold.

I give you: Selections from the DumbPhone's gallery.



I wish I could attribute this piece of art properly (if anyone does know the correct name or the artist's name, please let me know.) All I can tell you from memory is that it's a sculpture in the Detroit Institute of Art, and the name is something like Spirit of the Dance. A naked man dances with a tambourine (I wasn't able to fit all of him into the frame). He exudes joy and exalts the physical body.

I took this photo on December 27th, 2011. Mr. Turtle and I were in Michigan visiting my in-laws. We had passed Christmas day and Boxing day (also my birthday) with my MIL and now we were spending a couple of days with my BIL in Detroit, where he had just bought a house. The visit to the Institute of Art was one of tourist activities we did. 

At that time Mr. Turtle and I had been TTC for about 4 months, and it was at the point where I was wondering "what else can we do to make this work." I forget if we had made any special efforts that particular month. I had purchased the Ova.cue fertility monitor and packed it, but hadn't used it yet. I hoped it would turn out to be waste of money. I really, really, really wanted to be pregnant that Christmas. Probably because of the sentimentality of the holidays, and because we'd been married a year and a half, and because we'd been trying for a few months and dammit, it was time. And probably because of an uneasy feeling that if I wasn't pregnant soon, it might mean something was wrong.  I'd been charting and based on my charts so far, the Period was a couple of days late. I woke up full of optimism on the morning of the 27th - and there was the Period.

That day was the first time I was very disappointed that I wasn't pregnant. And on top of that it was an awful period. I felt like a deflated balloon, except I didn't because I was so bloated. All day I was in pain with the cramps. Despite that, I did enjoy the Institute of Art. It gave me plenty to focus on outside of myself, so while I was still unhappy and uncomfortable, I was at least distracted. What I couldn't do was be social. Most of the time I left the rest of the family behind and wandered in the galleries on my own. I didn't want to stand still for any reason. In those wanderings I found the Spirit of the Dance and immediately related to him. I love dancing and tambourines, so he embodies physical ecstasy for me. Although I remember this day so vividly, from the plaid shirt and jeans I was wearing to the heavy disappointment in my core, the image transcends all of it. And until a few months ago, he was the background image of the DumbPhone. Every time I looked at it I saw the Spirit of the Dance.


You're probably wondering: what the heck is that?!

The last week of January 2014 our house was burgled. This happened after a very stressful and emotional couple of weeks where our IVF cycle was cancelled and we were told that further fresh IVF treatments were pointless. I walked into the house after work and found it a mess and most of our valuables gone. Even worse than the loss of our possessions was the sense of invasion. I don't think much about the thefts anymore but the fear of a stranger coming into my space and threatening me still comes back from time to time.

Pictured above is what was our music room.  I'm not sure when I took this photo, but I think a couple of days after the burglary. In the background is a music stand, a chair, my snare drum, and my euphonium on a small table. In the foreground the vacuum cleaner hose and a couple of instrument cases, I think. None of our musical instruments were stolen, although they were the single most valuable items in the house: too large and difficult to turn into cash, I imagine. However, my euphonium was in a backpack case and that was stolen; I assume to carry away the rest of the stolen goods.

There was one thing I found odd. Everywhere else in the house, items were knocked over, thrown about, broken. The one exception was here: after taking it out of the case, someone placed my euphonium carefully on a table, much like it is above. In contrast with everything else, this gesture seemed out of place, almost respectful. When the policeman came to do the report with us, he dismissed the burglars as the "scum of the earth." Almost everything I know and feel inclines me to agree, but because of this gesture at least one of them seems more human. If anything that makes the whole event more disturbing.


I took this photo from my hospital bed a few hours after AJ was born. One of my birth fantasies was to have a picture of the sunrise on the day she was born. However, the photo didn't look very impressive on my phone screen so I never did anything else with it. Yet when I look at it I feel much that takes me back to that moment. I remember feeling like there was so much to do and learn after she was born: I was exhausted but who had time for that? I was served breakfast at about 6:30am and didn't believe I actually wanted to eat, but I did. I remember thinking I would never have time to sleep again, although I did - eventually.

This photo has other little details that I didn't even think of capturing at the time. The glider barely visible on the left was where Mr. Turtle sat most of the time and cuddled with AJ. The papers sitting on the window ledge are the birth registration documents. On one of these we later wrote AJ's name - but when this photo was taken she was not yet named. The ziplock bag has the warm socks I brought for labour but never used. The cup probably has ice water that was partly drunk and set aside. Probably the most significant object for me is the pink plastic bin on the ledge. This has the breast shields and tubing that were meant for the mechanical breast pump. When AJ had one low blood sugar reading, the medical staff immediately recommended formula supplementation and the nurses brought in the breast pump in case I had to pump. But the pump was never used. AJ learned to nurse effectively, her blood sugar readings never fell again, and I was filled with confidence that I could indeed feed and care for this tiny newborn life.

So there you go. Three ghosts from the past, thanks to the fact I didn't have a decent camera at the time. They aren't even good photos. Yet if the purpose of a picture is to capture a memory, these do it better than many prettier ones. I'll be keeping them.

And this is the DumbPhone's current background image.


18 comments:

  1. Love your background photo! I was very phone resistant, and even when I got one, my friends would be annoyed because I wouldn't have it with me or have it turned on. Exactly! I didn't want everyone to have 24/7 access to me! I want to go shopping in peace! I'm also the one who selects the most basic model in the store and my phone was eligible for an upgrade last year, but I can't be bothered to learn a new phone!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ha, I know I'm not the only one who isn't into flashy phones, but there's so much pressure to have one with all the apps and features that it does feel like it sometimes. I feel old sometimes because half the time I feel like new technology takes more time to figure out than it's really worth. I think everyone who knows me knows that I frequently ignore my phone for hours at a time so they don't expect to have constant access. But I know it's a reality in a lot of jobs, and people have made that their reality in relationships too.

      Delete
    2. God you two. You're like my mom. Join the 21st century, wouldya? I bet you still have film cameras. :P

      Delete
    3. hahaha! Digital cameras were a very good invention. Although I'm glad that certain parts of my life happened before digital photography and social media penetration. Certain events and experiences really didn't need to be documented, or at least, a photo album tucked away on my shelf is sufficient documentation. I think I will spring for an iPhone next because the Facetime feature is wonderful. We use that to talk to my MIL. And it gets around one of the main things I dislike about phones: not seeing who I'm talking to.

      Delete
  2. I can top you... I traded in my old phone & got my current one for me & one for dh for Christmas... 2007. ;) It was my third phone as well. It's a Samsung flip phone. It can text & take photos but I have never done either and I rarely have it on. Dh is the same way (in fact, he hates cellphones more than I do). I do like the security of having it with me, and I mostly use it to call dh when I'm in the city to tell him which train I'll be coming home on, or if I'm running late, etc. I suppose I will get a smartphone, eventually, and the camera feature would be nice to have (a better camera, that is, I think mine is like 1 mp) but I'm not anxious to complicate my life too much more than it already is. ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Flip phone owners unite! hahaha. I'm impressed your phone has lasted so long. I would love to keep mine that long but eventually they don't charge up or they just stop working. I'm slowly starting to see the advantage of a phone with more features but it's a hard sell, because I just don't want to spend time figuring out how it all works. Maybe I'm at the age where I feel like I have limited time and that's not how I want to spend it. Also at some point it feels like technology stopped being a tool for a lot of people and now it's something we use to separate ourselves from the present moment.

      Delete
  3. I LOVE this. I think the fact that you take fewer photos on your phone only makes the photos more special (even if they're not the best quality).

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks! I think what makes these photos different is they aren't posed, and they aren't even of people (except the last one of AJ). They really only exist to capture a moment, and the moments happened to be really emotional ones (we don't always take photos at really emotional moments, because there's so much else going on).

      Delete
  4. Such a neat post -- I love this tiny archive hiding on your Dumbphone. It's amazing how a picture can bring you right back to that moment, the feeling you had in that moment, and what was going on in your life around that moment. Obviously these photos had that effect on you. That burglary one made me feel so sad, but also so interested in why they were so respectful of your instrument. I wonder if that moment gave them pause at all as to what they were doing ransacking their house. I wonder if one of them played that instrument in school. So many questions with that picture! I love the background that your DumbPhone currently enjoys. So very sweet.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you. Yes, I had much the same thoughts looking at the photo taken after the burglary. Including the thought "did someone play a band instrument in school." It's unsettling and sad for sure. We implemented a security system after that incident. Obviously the biggest motivation was to keep ourselves safe (including restoring emotional safety as much as possible) but also we really don't want to be supporting (however unintentionally) a criminal lifestyle that involves addiction, abuse and the corruption of youth. If there was a little bit of decency in any of the people who burgled our home, I do hope that it may prevail and their lives get better (as ours have).

      Delete
  5. A great snippet of your journey told through photos- I love it! You remember so much detail surrounding these images! I am lucky if I can identify what the picture on my phone is, let alone when it was taken or anything else about that time! But I do have lots of pics of Bubs on my phone and I need to figure out how to put them on my computer (aka find the cord), so who knows, maybe I will find some gems!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I hope you find some gems! I certainly don't remember that much detail about all my photos, but occasionally I get a 'mental photo' of a moment in time, and it so happens in these cases there were real photos to go along with the mental ones. Sometimes it's a certain song or smell or sound or place that triggers the memory. Good luck finding your cord! and when you do get the photos on your computer, make backups.

      Delete
  6. Amazing!

    I gasped a bit when I read about how you wanted to picturise the sunrise when AJ was born.

    You know that is what I did the first time I discovered I was pregnant. I did it when I went to deliver the baby. I never repeated that idea after losing that baby three days post birth.

    There is amazing story behind each of those pictures. AJ is a pretty girl. My boy, M is November 2014 born. :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi St. E, what a bittersweet thing to have in common. I am very sorry to hear about the loss of your firstborn. Congratulations on M. :-) It is a wonderful adventure isn't it. But always flavoured with the memories of how we got here.

      Delete
  7. I love the memories - both happy and sad - that come with these photos. You're right, that is precisely why we take pictures, and keep them. And now you've published them here, you can set them (and maybe even your phone) free.

    I don't love phones either - but I do love my smartphone, in that it does everything I need, and that it means I always have a book with me!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes, each of the photo marks a moment in time that is part of how we got to the present. They remind me that the intensity of life has really increased in the past 4 years. I'm leaning toward an iPhone for the next phone - hubby has one and likes it; we'll match. :-) Maybe a SmartPhone will make me smarter.

      Delete
  8. I got my first smartphone in 2009 and haven't looked back. The only time I touch a computer these days is... Actually I can't remember the last time I did! Sometimes I use the laptop to pay bills.

    I loved the stories behind these photos. The euphonium on the table is heartbreaking. It says to me that the person who broke in was desperate, felt he had no options, and tried in some small way to be respectful. I'm probably just romanticizing things but that's what I see.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sounds like your smartphone works well for you. I think I'll get one soon...of course you know what I'm like with to do lists hahaha.
      You might be romanticizing about the photo, or what you think could be the case. Even if it wasn't respect for the owners of the house, but only respect for the instrument itself, that's still something.

      Delete