Atom Bomb

The other night, I was on the phone with my dad and he told me that he took a picture of an item in a store to help him with a work project. He makes prototypes for a living so he often sees things when he's shopping that are shaped or that move in a way that could be useful to his work. He'd never taken a picture with his cell phone before. I'm actually surprised he even had his cell phone with him. Like many dads of people my age, he rarely has it on him and has it mostly for emergencies. 

We spent quite a while on the phone with me helping him figure out, step by step, how to send the picture to his email, so he could see it in a larger size and potentially print it out. We worked hard together, me working as the customer service agent that you wish you had, him playing the role of very well behaved customer who was completely compliant, including going out to the mailbox in the freezing cold because his cell service isn't very good in his house. He kept saying to me, "you really enjoy this, eh?" I think meaning that he couldn't imagine being on my side of the conversation, explaining, Googling, describing, anticipating, guessing what his phone options might be, and trying new things to help him.

When we got to the part where he had to type in his email address in to the phone, he laughed. He couldn't believe that he had to type letters in using numbers and moreso, I think he couldn't believe that people do this every day and use it as a primary way to communicate. As he went along, he got faster and started not to need my help anymore. I was excited for him, and oddly, perhaps, proud. As he completed the typing and hit send, he said, "I feel like I just invented the atom bomb," and he almost meant it.

I don't know what I want to do when I grow up, and I've been thinking about it a lot lately, but I do know that THAT is how I want to make people feel.

[End note: It turns out that text messaging and photo sending were blocked on my dad's phone. Newly empowered, he stopped at a Verizon kiosk the next day and had them take the block off for him. I got a text later that day from him: "I've like entered the 21st century! Dad" Don't you wish he was your dad?]

Comments

[Amy]

Very cute! My mom went to the Cingular store one day because she had a text message and didn't know what it was or how to get rid of it :)

[Mrs. G]

Funny, I sort of think text messaging is what finally jumpstarted my relationship with my father. I didn't really know him before we both got Sprint :) Maybe it's because he still has teenage kids but he will text me stuff like, omw, when he is leaving for our house. It always cracks me up.

[Kristian A. Aloma]

Great story. It also had me thinking. What if there was a company that strictly provided customer service - for anything - with the kind of enthusiasm, patience and dedication you provided your dad? I wonder if people would use it instead of the customer service numbers provided by the products they buy. Hmmm...idea brewing.