I’m sitting with my gadget geek friend Chauncey at Starbuck’s to discuss the latest consumer gadgets. Chauncey is a striking young man in his 30s who will strike you if you try to take away his gadgets. Both of us are gadget fiends. We like it all – from potato peelers to streaming video sticks, like the Chromecast plug. I just got that beauty as a birthday present. All you do you is just stick it in your TV’s HDMI outlet, control it with a phone app and Voila! More time to watch YouTube, Netflix, Hulu and other time sucking stuff (cause there’s just not enough of that.)
I was going to get Roku, but it has a box and works with a remote. A remote? What am I a cave woman? Hell, I use my phone for Chromecast. In fact, I would like to use my phone for just about everything from now on. And anyway, it’s not a phone – it’s a device. The phone just happens to be on there. Ever have the wrong screen up on your ph – I mean device – and then you can’t make a call ‘cause - where’s the damn phone icon? I know, right?
And speaking of icons – why is the phone icon the old school phone receiver? Some people using phones today have never even seen that receiver – well maybe if they’re watching AMC classic movies or looking at ancient pictures from the 70s and earlier.
So Chauncey and me. We’ve come together today to get wired on coffee and discuss our latest favorite gadgets that we simply MUST have. We must! But let me tell you the whole story here – we’ve actually come together to talk ourselves out of getting these gadgets. Why? Because we spend too much time and money on gadgets. This is sort of a G.A. meeting – Gadgets Anonymous.
Chauncey goes first. “I need the Manscaper!” he says, eyes gleaming.
“What the hell is that?” I ask, expecting him to tell me he is going to cut his grass with a lawnmower that’s shaped like a human male. (Do they make one that does laundry?)
“The Manscaper is a body trimmer. It’s the perfect tool for the hairy man!” he says. “And… wait for it ….it can trim body hair for up to one hour per charge,” he adds, like that’s the greatest thing since wine in a box.
“Who trims their body hair for an hour? I ask. “What’re you Caesar from Planet of the Apes?”
“I’m just sayin’, it’s available if you need it.” He replies.
“How much?” I ask.
“A bargain. $39.99. And, it comes with three interchangeable heads,” he says.
“In case you run out of hair on your own head?” I ask.
“Very funny. Now you.” I take a breath and clench my fists. “I really want this gadget. I know when I say it out loud it may sound, er – “
“Crazy?” he adds.
“Unusual”, I reply. “But nevertheless I have the Screamin’ Got To’s and I simply MUST have it!”
“Spill it girl!”
“I want that gadget that air-brushes your make up on,” I confess dreamily. “It gives such a perfect velvety appearance to your skin – it makes you look flawless.”
“Flawless? Yeah, as long as nothing comes in contact with your face – like the atmosphere. And don’t move your features or you’ll clump. It’s wet paint, honey. And whatever you do – don’t shvitz – your face will melt.” He wasn’t finished. “Air-brushing always reminds of those big weird vans with wild horses or mountainscapes painted on the side. You’re not air-brushing a motif on your face are you? Is this from the same people that did the spray paint for the head a few years back? That was tacky. My uncle used that – he looked like someone colored on his head with a Sharpie.”
I shake my head like spray paint for the head is insane. But air-brushing your face? Perfectly normal. “And how much is this air-brush gadget? Hmm?”
“Mmmrghfgdg,” I mumble, trying to evade the question.
“How much!” he demands.
“Only $200,” I whisper. “In three easy payments. But it’s the good air-brusher, the one by TEMPTU, and it did tempt me.”
“You’re nuts.” Chauncey concludes.
“That may be – but I’ll be a nut with fabulously smooth skin.”
“Right. If you walk around in a hermetically sealed helmet,” Chauncey says rolling his eyes.
“Let’s face it,” I counter, “A Manscape? It’s just a big razor. Stubble City in one day. In two days you’ll be tearing up your sheets with your back spikes.”
Chauncey downs the rest of his double-mocha-espresso -2% milk-low foam- Grande-latte. I stare at my mocha-caramel-whole milk-extra-whipped cream-Frappuccino and sudeenly we come to the same conclusion.
“Have you see that new coffee machine they’re advertising on TV?” asks Chauncey.
My eyes light up. “Have I ever – and how! The one that makes lattes, espresso, half-cafs, full cafs, baby calfs, hot coffee, cold coffee, café au lait, café con-leche, café-let-me-con-you and it tells you the weather?”
“That’s the one!” Chauncey shrieks joyously, clapping his hands.
And then the two of us together: “AS SEEN ON TV – NOT SOLD IN STORES!”
“Auch! Am I glad we got together.” I tell him. “Now we can spend our money on something reasonable!“
“And practical,” he adds.
We get up and hug. We’ve saved each other again. I look for my keys. Hmm. I reach in my pants pocket and press a little plastic square that triggers a beeping sound from the fob attached to my car keys, which, I realize from the sound, are in my other hand. Thank God for gadgets.
And that’s the View from Gadget Lovin’ Broad.Anna Collins is a writer, photographer, videographer and Realtor.
