'We're slaves to our gadgetry'
2006-10-13 13:24
Stacey Maree
If the contents of a woman's handbag are a Polaroid of her personality, then (lip gloss and crushed fortune cookies aside) what do the multiple electronics chargers writhing like a nest of vipers at the bottom of mine say about the modern, twenty-something female of the species?
We're techno-savvy! We're hip! And, drum roll, we're slaves to our gadgetry.
Untangling these black-cabled loops of electric spaghetti reveal a cell phone charger, the rather weighty charger for my handheld Sony PSP and the USB cable for my digital camera that handily charges while I download photos to my desktop.
Thankfully, the charger for my laptop is bundled together with it in its carry bag, and my GPS is plugged into the cigarette lighter of my humble Palio juicing up for the drive home.
Now all I need to do is bundle up the cables for my Blackberry and I should have all my bases covered for the next 24 hours. Wait, where the hell is my MP3 player? Shoot!
Mobile? Only just...
Ladies: you know who you are. You're the gals sipping on strawberry daiquiris after work and grinning as Dishevelled Mommy in the parking lot tries to simultaneously bundle her Woolies bags into the family Volvo while buckling two uncooperative toddlers into car seat.
Feeling slightly smug and liberated? I know I did.
This feeling of worldly sophistication lasted right until 17:00 the next day when I wiggled all my gadgetry into a Mary Poppin-esque magic bag and tottered out in my heels to load the car.
My phone spilled out of my handbag and clattered on tarmac as I battled to find my car keys nestled between the charger cables. With my wallet between my teeth, I balanced my laptop on the roof as I yanked back the driver's seat to chuck all the cords I'd fished out into the paperwork-strewn chasm.
Then I ungracefully plopped into the car, flipped on the GPS, struggled back out to retrieve the laptop and finally turned on the engine.
Of course, traffic gives you plenty of time to ponder. Two mental pictures superimposed over each other in the docile haze of carbon monoxide poisoning city-dwellers are conditioned to survive. It hit me! Oh my goodness, I'd become a Gizmo Mommy!
Babysitting your hardware
That's right. Every morning I get the "kids" together, make sure their teeth are charged and load them into the car. When their faces get sticky I lovingly wipe them clean. I provide them with the best education by keeping their software updated and I keep them virus-free.
Although I must admit I'm not being bludgeoned to death with medical aid fees.
Ever sat in Mugg & Bean wondering if it would be rude to ask your waiter if he could plug your phone in to charge for a few minutes and baby-sit it while you relax over a latté?
Yup, you really do know who you are.
You see, lugging around a bag full of toys and Huggies while you frantically chase around the mall looking for a changing room isn't so different to having an entire drawer in your kitchen dedicated to stashing all your chargers, USB cables and instruction manuals.
Gadget girls are still nurturers; we just breed a different kind of animal that needs our constant attention and care.
Stacey Maree is the editor of PC Format magazine. She is considering "adopting" a GPS-enabled pocket PC that comes with a camera and MP3 player. She won't give up her PSP.
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