Smartphones Eh?

By Stephan W. Papp

Of all the marvels of the twenty-first century, none, I would argue, have had a greater impact or had such substantial daily use as the smartphone. Long gone are the days of hitting the county clerk for plat books, with information years outdated. Pre-printing directions off Mapquest before hitting the road is of a bygone era. When was the last time you took a canister of film to drop off at the drug store to be printed? Shoot, when is the last time you’ve printed a photograph? Photo album? Naw.. it’s all on Instacram, Chatsnaps, BookFace, and Youtubs, or heaven forbid Tock-ticker.

I remember when on the X meant you knew where the ducks wanted to be! Now, I’m not throwing shade at any of the aforementioned and incorrectly named apps. Lord knows I use my “phone” all the time. They are amazing tools! I do take issue with the moniker “smartphone.”

For something that can do so much, with such variety, and in so many places, how can they get themselves into so many predicaments?

I for one have managed to utterly destroy these things without even trying. It is a skill set I must have just been born with. Talent that is God-given for sure, as I certainly have not practiced it.

For instance, my first “smart” phone met its demise when I simply opened my car door. The encased phone ($35 for the case) slipped from my pocket from a twenty-four-inch drop and boom! Cracked. The poor thing looked like it had been hit by a baseball. A little packaging tape salvaged it for a time but the missing chunks of glass made me worry about bleeding out if didn’t watch what or where I was texting. I hesitate even to mention putting that thing back in my pocket. Yeesh!

Then there was the time I was out fly fishing with the Good Doctor along the lower Kinnickinnic River. He was just learning the art of Euro nymphing and really dialing in. The man was on fire that afternoon! He had a pair of nymphs tied in his setup one hugging the bottom and another about a foot above. A beaded pheasant tail and some form of midge, I believe. It was an awfully potent combo indeed as he hollered and had a pair of brown trout on at the same time! My goodness was he tickled when both fish were landed. If ever there was a photo opportunity, this was it.

I was wrestling the smartphone out of a vest pocket to record the moment as he struggled to hold both fish. They were active browns and must have been hard to handle. The phone was being awfully uncooperative and not coming easily from my vest. With great effort, I released the phone and snapped a quick pic. His cry of “No! Shoot!” broke my concentration as he lost both fish and I fumbled the phone right into the Kinni. I learned the potent absorption power of a rice bath that time. Wonderful stuff that rice. And for the record, I may have missed the pair of trout but captured a golden outdoor moment if ever there was one.

Then there was the time I was releasing brown trout my students had raised, from eggs, into the Willow River. I was in “said” river and taking a photo of the class for nostalgia. They were all smiles. Upon finishing my photographic artistry, I meant to place the phone in my guide-shirt pocket. Instead, I placed it between my zipped hoodie and shirt. The phone dumped with a resounding sploosh directly into the Willow. I have become something of an “artiste” with the rice bath. That time I even learned how to bake a smartphone in the oven. I even considered serving it with a side of trout I planned to pull from the Willow on my next outing.

You might say fishing is an Achille’s Heel for this outdoorsman’s phones, but I assure you, friends, I’m an equal-opportunity phone destroyer.

I was the duck hunting the backwaters of the Mississippi River with Calvin. We were not on the X. The flight was stale. I decided to do some exploring which required crossing a water outlet that led to an island. It was not deep by any means… perhaps waist-deep at most. After exploring the island, with no ducks to show, and crossing again. I stopped to take in the scenery. You know how it is, friends. After exhaling a deep breath and thanking the maker for all of creation, I looked down at my feet to see a dark rectangular shape at my feet with a light blinking at me. My phone had been there the entire time. It had been swimming a good twenty minutes at that point. Needless to say, the rice bath and oven sauna could not revive that one.

Another time I took brother Eric and Calvin to a backwater bay on the big water. It was bitterly cold. Things were icing up fast. We had to break ice in the dark just to reach the bay. Brother Eric ripped a hole in his waders during our arrival effort. The temperature was a mere five degrees above zero. It got so cold so quickly that I found a poor bufflehead at the shore whose foot had become encased in ice!

Early in the hunt we took a gadwall and moments later a mallard. I realized it was too cold for Calvin to make many more water retrieves. Then a pair of geese came in from who knows where. Brother Eric and I dropped them both. To keep Calvin from too much cold exposure, I went after the far goose. I removed my jacket to prevent the shells in my pocket and my phone from getting wet. I threw the jacket to brother Eric. I then went to grab the far goose while Calvin was retrieving the other. Why I didn’t bring my gun, I’ll never know.

The bird’s head popped up and began swimming away. In the hectic abandon to get back and get my shotgun, Brother Eric tossed my jacket into the shallows as he grabbed his Remington for a follow-up shot. Needless to say, we lost the goose and I? Yet another phone. The visual of my jacket riding the waves up and down the shoreline is vivid in my mind to this day.

My latest episode was not in the river or backwaters. Oh no friends, it was ice fishing. The Angry Dane was struggling with back issues and Matt was suffering with vertigo. To put it bluntly, I was their runner or sherpa, but happy to be put to service. At least the Good Doctor was along and he helped drag gear too.

Matt and I were attempting to put out tip ups. I had just finished a trio of them and saw Matt teetering while putting out a fourth. I reached across to grab the tip-up from his hand so he wouldn’t topple. Indelibly, at that moment, my phone slipped out of the upper buttoned (for the record) pocket and dropped directly into the hole. I plunged my hand into the frigid waters to the elbow and thought, perhaps, I had it! I had not.

As I soberly walked away to the aghast “Ooohs” of the Dane, Matt, and Good Doctor, I slumped to my bucket, grabbed a barley beverage in one hand, and my jigging pole in the other. Quietly, humbly, and perhaps a touch subdued, I began fishing. With a sip of my beverage of choice, my rod tip had a slight bend. With an upward thrust, I set the hook. The rod bent over and I managed to land the largest bluegill of my life. A moment or two later I lost a largemouth at the hole. Perhaps the fish spirits or phone Gods thought I’d suffered enough.

To bring the argument back, my point is, that if these phones were so smart, why do they need a case? If they are so “wise” why aren’t they waterproof? If they are so amazing and can do trigonometry while showing cat videos, why can’t they float?

Smartphone, huh? Bah! Phooey! An utterly complete failure of engineering. Missed opportunities abound. I assure you of this, dear reader, I will find other ways to deliver them. Other ways indeed!

What’s that you say? Yes. I have heard of ziplock bags. Of course, I know how to button a pocket. Velcro? That’s not a bad idea… Leave it home? That’s preposterous. How would I find my spots? Just buy a camera? Where would I develop the film? No, I never buy the insurance. It’s just a waste of …