Tales from Rural Maine: Happy Fourth
After my old phone, Luna, got smashed, she would communicate only in poems and riddles. I had no access to commas, ellipses, or intentional periods.
All
texts
Looked. Like.
this.
It was effortful both to send and to receive these texts. But, there was also something deeply charming about Luna's last days of messaging. Something poetical and enduring that suited her personality.
My new phone can text in fancy, horizontal sentences, which are good for communicating, but lack some of the creative flare Luna brought to my text-based conversations at the end. Luna 2 is still showing me who she is. Slowly, slowly, we are getting to know one another. She has finally learned, for instance that I do not mean "ducking."
Among her quirks is the fact that she randomly inserts capital letters into words. No, I don't mean "foRgot." No one ever means to type "foRgot." I found this annoying at first (okay, I still do), but I have exhaled into an almost whole-hearted acceptance of this element of her personality. I don't correct it anymore. I just go with it.
Among her charms is her ability to learn. Luna 1 never did that. She was always devotedly true to her own authentic self. I could teach her new words sometimes, but it was a more plodding experience of forcing them into her dictionary manually. Luna 2 learns spontaneously, whimsically.
And she now has enough experience, apparently, to predict what I'm about to type next. I type a word and she offers one or more suggestions for what's to follow, based on what I've typed in the past. She's almost never right, but I'm so charmed by the eagerness of her offerings that I've decided to honor them here. If I take any word and begin a text with it, I can create a new Luna 2 phone poem: a message that is quirky, representative of a weird somewhat prismatic window into my life and the things I seem to have to say to others, via text messaging, but which is nothing like what I (at least what I thought I) meant to say when I began.
Here's today's Luna 2 phone poem, starting with the word "Happy:"
"Happy biRthday bay! Thank you for sharing your heart/time/Sunday/voice. Shine/your/chakra/hurts
she says you're having a picnic/option/dinner.
"Happy fourth
she says
he's maybe/able/not ready/ashamed/broken/
Happy Fourth of July weekend, everybody! Shine your chakras--and enjoy your picnic/option/dinners!
All
texts
Looked. Like.
this.
It was effortful both to send and to receive these texts. But, there was also something deeply charming about Luna's last days of messaging. Something poetical and enduring that suited her personality.
My new phone can text in fancy, horizontal sentences, which are good for communicating, but lack some of the creative flare Luna brought to my text-based conversations at the end. Luna 2 is still showing me who she is. Slowly, slowly, we are getting to know one another. She has finally learned, for instance that I do not mean "ducking."
Among her quirks is the fact that she randomly inserts capital letters into words. No, I don't mean "foRgot." No one ever means to type "foRgot." I found this annoying at first (okay, I still do), but I have exhaled into an almost whole-hearted acceptance of this element of her personality. I don't correct it anymore. I just go with it.
Among her charms is her ability to learn. Luna 1 never did that. She was always devotedly true to her own authentic self. I could teach her new words sometimes, but it was a more plodding experience of forcing them into her dictionary manually. Luna 2 learns spontaneously, whimsically.
And she now has enough experience, apparently, to predict what I'm about to type next. I type a word and she offers one or more suggestions for what's to follow, based on what I've typed in the past. She's almost never right, but I'm so charmed by the eagerness of her offerings that I've decided to honor them here. If I take any word and begin a text with it, I can create a new Luna 2 phone poem: a message that is quirky, representative of a weird somewhat prismatic window into my life and the things I seem to have to say to others, via text messaging, but which is nothing like what I (at least what I thought I) meant to say when I began.
Here's today's Luna 2 phone poem, starting with the word "Happy:"
"Happy biRthday bay! Thank you for sharing your heart/time/Sunday/voice. Shine/your/chakra/hurts
she says you're having a picnic/option/dinner.
"Happy fourth
she says
he's maybe/able/not ready/ashamed/broken/
Happy Fourth of July weekend, everybody! Shine your chakras--and enjoy your picnic/option/dinners!
Labels: humor, maine, microstories, poetry
posted by Naomi at 5:21 PM
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