When you feel like the world is on top of you, when you pine for simpler times, a pretty common reaction is to go for some childhood memory food; mashed potatoes, bangers, soup etc, the kind of nosh that your mother used to make.
The wolves always feel far from the door when I’m tucking into fish fingers, or having a piece of roasted lamb. Even a baked potato or a piece of roasted parsnip is a time machine back to my grandmother’s table where my biggest worry was trying to finish eating without looking like you were rushing, because Loony Tunes was starting in 20 minutes.
I wonder if we are applying that same blanky wrapped retreat with technology.
I’ve recently been told about a phone that is to be found in some of the chicest boutiques. Apparently, the amazingly ground breaking thing about this phone is that you can make a phone call on it. And that’s it.
No texts, no mail, no camera, no calendar, no apps, no nothing.
You can make and receive calls in every country in the world except North Korea and somewhere else kind of random.
This takes me back to a time here in Singapore when I bought my first cell phone. A state of the art Ericsson 688 and it cost $688 dollars. Amazing to think that when they launched the iPhone in the States, it went for the outrageous price of $800. My 688 was like a Flintstones rock tablet by comparison. But I happily shelled over the cash and forever destroyed the line of every pair of pants I owned.
Do you remember the sudden freedom of not having to check your messages from a payphone? No more carrying round a beeper like you were some kind of dealer? Ah, the swampy air of Singapore and 10c a minute calls. And racing after the taxi because your phone had fallen out of your Stussy pants again.
The good old days. Pass the fish fingers.