May 7th, 2007 A REPORTER MEETS HER NEW CELL-PHONE SOUL MATE
By Senior Editor Tekla S. Perry
When her trusted longtime cell phone met an untimely end, our correspondent discovered that replacing it wasn't going to be easy.
Tekla S. Perry
I broke my cell phone last week; dropped it, thought it was fine, but a few days later the hinge snapped. I was devastated. Not because the new one would cost US $100 or so; I'm on the Verizon get-a-free-phone-every-two-years plan, and I've been due to pick up that new one for about a year now. No, it's because I really liked my three-year-old Samsung (I can't figure out the model number, it resembles the X450 still sold in Europe). And I knew Verizon wasn't selling it anymore locally.
Since I took that Samsung phone home long ago, feature bloat has run epidemic throughout the cell-phone industry, and unless I want a really flimsy throwaway phone with lousy voice quality, I can't seem to find a phone that is just a phone. Phones today are still cameras, video cameras, voice recorders, and music players. They work as speaker-phones and stereos, they have removable memory cards, so I can bring a library of videos with me to watch in line at the bank. No matter that all I do with my phone is make and answer calls and, occasionally, use it as a backup alarm clock in a hotel room; my next phone was going to insist on doing it all.
I held my little silver Samsung wistfully. It tucked so nicely into the palm of my hand, its rounded oval dimensions somehow soothing. It fit into the pocket of my skinniest jeans, without even the tip of the antenna peaking out. And now it was listing to one side, lovingly patched together with duct tape; a temporary fix at best.
So on Sunday afternoon, my three kids in tow as consultants (they'd figure out the functions faster than I would, and my teen with his phone would help me test voice quality), I hit my local Verizon store. My first walkabout confirmed that no decent phone was anywhere near as small and ergonomic as the broken Samsung. Worse, no phone was even as small as my teen's LG camera-phone that seemed so big to me when we bought it last October. (I would have settled for that one, the VX5200, but it was sold out.)
My criteria going into this shopping expedition were: durability (given how much I hate shopping for a new phone), sound quality, size, hand-feel (I wanted that cozy nestling feeling in my palm), and legibility of number pad and screen (I'd like to be able to dial without my glasses). I didn't care about camera resolution, removable memory, or music player functions.
The salesman advised forgetting about Motorola and looking at LG and Samsung if I wanted a phone that would last. So I started with the Korean brands. The Samsung 540 had nice distinct number keys and a big screen. It was really big and ugly, though, and uncomfortable to hold. I called my teen and tested the sound quality. Not good.
I moved on to the Samsung U740. A little friendlier shape, much better sound quality. And a full QWERTY keyboard. At first I thought, wow, that was cool, I don't need it for texting, since I don't text, but with a real keyboard I might actually enter more than a couple of names in my address book. Also cool was that the phone opens in two directions, vertically for phone dialing and horizontally for keyboard typing. Fortunately, my common sense kicked in: with the actual dialing pad buried in the QWERTY keyboard, I could barely find it, much less dial with it. And the dual opening made for a complicated hinge that, in the floor model, was already bending out of shape. I reminded myself that I was looking for a durable phone that was easy to dial and moved on.
Next to the Samsung U740 was a Motorola RAZR. Thin, true, but too big in its other dimensions for me to hold comfortably, and it seemed fairly fragile.
I'd glanced at the LG VX8300 when I first came in; it had the rounded oval shape I'd so liked in the Samsung. But I had passed it by originally, because it seemed big and clunky, and the round stereo speakers on either side of its hinge, combined with its ominous dark gray color, made it look like the child of a bad marriage between Princess Leia and Darth Vader. Still, my eye kept coming back to it, because the screen on the front of the phone was so much bigger and brighter than its neighbors. I picked it up.
"That's an OLED on the front," the salesman interjected. Suddenly, Darth Leia was a lot more appealing. I'm usually not a complete fool for new technology, but I've been intrigued by OLED developments for years. The buttons weren't bad, the inside LCD screen was nice and clear, and it had a lot of easy-to-use features that the other phones didn't, like a dedicated camera button. I know, I wasn't planning to use the camera, but I started forgetting that, as well as the fact that I was unlikely to either buy music from Verizon or figure out how to move iTunes tracks onto this phone, so the stereo speakers and all its other music-playing features that inflated its size weren't going to get much use either. I liked that it had an external antenna. I do track the European cell-phone/brain-tumor studies, and all things being equal I think having an antenna that juts away from my head is a good idea.
My 11-year-old daughter had been waving the Motorola KRZR in my face for about 15 minutes now, so I put Darth Leia down to look at it. It was definitely smaller than the LG, about the same width as my old Samsung, though a lot longer. It didn't have that nice curve of the Samsung, but at least the edges were slightly rounded. The voice quality was fine. The outside screen, a tiny LCD buried under mirrored glass, seemed essentially useless; next to Darth Leia's OLED it was laughable. Inside, with the store lights bouncing off its silver polished surface, the KRZR's number pad was impossible to read. No dedicated camera key; if I ever wanted to take a picture, it'd be a multi-step process. And another customer told me the KRZR had the annoying habit of beeping constantly after a missed call. It doesn't stop until you manually cancel it; that seemed really dumb.
I turned back to clunky Darth Leia. No way would it be comfortable in a pants pocket. But I reasoned that I usually carry my phone in my purse or have it sitting in the phone slot of my car, so perhaps I was making too big a deal out of the size issue. And the salesman assured me that the LG was one of the best built phones he had, with great sound quality; and if I was someone who was looking for function over form, clearly this was the phone for me.
Of course, I'm far above being seduced by mere style (OLED technology, maybe, fashion, never). So when, at this point, the kids told me to pick a phone and move on, I took Darth Leia.
I showed off the OLED screen to friends that evening. They were impressed. Still, every time I pulled the phone out of my purse, I cringed. It really was big and somewhat scary looking. I googled reviews of the LG; the reviews went on and on about its great camera and music player features, and, oh, yeah, it's a pretty good phone. I googled my second choice, the KRZR, too, also a pretty good phone, less great as a camera and music player. But it does weigh a little less than the LG. And, interestingly enough, given that it has only an internal antenna, it has a lower Specific Absorption Rate, or SAR, 1.03 watts per kilogram versus 1.28 watts per kilogram; my old Samsung clocked in at 0.98. (The legal maximum in the U.S. is 1.6.) The SAR is the amount of radiofrequency energy absorbed by nearby tissues when the phone is operating at its highest power level. If cell phones are causing brain tumors to develop, scientists suspect this absorption is the problem.
After a restless night dreaming of giant cell phones that ate Manhattan, I woke up convinced that I had made the wrong choice. Seduced by the OLED and all the great features I would never use, I forgot that what I really need is a small phone that has a decent sound quality, is comfortable to hold, and can tuck in any pocket. And Darth Leia is not that.
I took Darth back to the Verizon store and exchanged it for the KRZR. The mirrored keypad isn't as bad as I thought; and, though the external display is indeed useless, I never had one on my Samsung and never missed it. KRZRs come in several colors, I was leaning towards white, but I didn't have a strong preference, so I let my daughter talk me into red. It's sort of a retro-lipstick red, on a tall, thin, phone ... kind of Audrey Hepburn.
I've had Audrey for a week now, and it's doing just fine. I haven't had any trouble dialing (although once or twice I accidentally pressed "3" when I was trying to hit "End."). The alarm clock works. And the voice quality is great. One of these days, maybe, I might even try to take a picture. Or not. I just hope it lasts, because I really don't want to face cell-phone shopping again any time soon.
A REPORTER MEETS HER NEW CELL-PHONE SOUL MATE
By Senior Editor Tekla S. Perry
When her trusted longtime cell phone met an untimely end, our correspondent discovered that replacing it wasn't going to be easy.
Tekla S. Perry
I broke my cell phone last week; dropped it, thought it was fine, but a few days later the hinge snapped. I was devastated. Not because the new one would cost US $100 or so; I'm on the Verizon get-a-free-phone-every-two-years plan, and I've been due to pick up that new one for about a year now. No, it's because I really liked my three-year-old Samsung (I can't figure out the model number, it resembles the X450 still sold in Europe). And I knew Verizon wasn't selling it anymore locally.
Since I took that Samsung phone home long ago, feature bloat has run epidemic throughout the cell-phone industry, and unless I want a really flimsy throwaway phone with lousy voice quality, I can't seem to find a phone that is just a phone. Phones today are still cameras, video cameras, voice recorders, and music players. They work as speaker-phones and stereos, they have removable memory cards, so I can bring a library of videos with me to watch in line at the bank. No matter that all I do with my phone is make and answer calls and, occasionally, use it as a backup alarm clock in a hotel room; my next phone was going to insist on doing it all.
I held my little silver Samsung wistfully. It tucked so nicely into the palm of my hand, its rounded oval dimensions somehow soothing. It fit into the pocket of my skinniest jeans, without even the tip of the antenna peaking out. And now it was listing to one side, lovingly patched together with duct tape; a temporary fix at best.
So on Sunday afternoon, my three kids in tow as consultants (they'd figure out the functions faster than I would, and my teen with his phone would help me test voice quality), I hit my local Verizon store. My first walkabout confirmed that no decent phone was anywhere near as small and ergonomic as the broken Samsung. Worse, no phone was even as small as my teen's LG camera-phone that seemed so big to me when we bought it last October. (I would have settled for that one, the VX5200, but it was sold out.)
My criteria going into this shopping expedition were: durability (given how much I hate shopping for a new phone), sound quality, size, hand-feel (I wanted that cozy nestling feeling in my palm), and legibility of number pad and screen (I'd like to be able to dial without my glasses). I didn't care about camera resolution, removable memory, or music player functions.
The salesman advised forgetting about Motorola and looking at LG and Samsung if I wanted a phone that would last. So I started with the Korean brands. The Samsung 540 had nice distinct number keys and a big screen. It was really big and ugly, though, and uncomfortable to hold. I called my teen and tested the sound quality. Not good.
I moved on to the Samsung U740. A little friendlier shape, much better sound quality. And a full QWERTY keyboard. At first I thought, wow, that was cool, I don't need it for texting, since I don't text, but with a real keyboard I might actually enter more than a couple of names in my address book. Also cool was that the phone opens in two directions, vertically for phone dialing and horizontally for keyboard typing. Fortunately, my common sense kicked in: with the actual dialing pad buried in the QWERTY keyboard, I could barely find it, much less dial with it. And the dual opening made for a complicated hinge that, in the floor model, was already bending out of shape. I reminded myself that I was looking for a durable phone that was easy to dial and moved on.
Next to the Samsung U740 was a Motorola RAZR. Thin, true, but too big in its other dimensions for me to hold comfortably, and it seemed fairly fragile.
I'd glanced at the LG VX8300 when I first came in; it had the rounded oval shape I'd so liked in the Samsung. But I had passed it by originally, because it seemed big and clunky, and the round stereo speakers on either side of its hinge, combined with its ominous dark gray color, made it look like the child of a bad marriage between Princess Leia and Darth Vader. Still, my eye kept coming back to it, because the screen on the front of the phone was so much bigger and brighter than its neighbors. I picked it up.
"That's an OLED on the front," the salesman interjected. Suddenly, Darth Leia was a lot more appealing. I'm usually not a complete fool for new technology, but I've been intrigued by OLED developments for years. The buttons weren't bad, the inside LCD screen was nice and clear, and it had a lot of easy-to-use features that the other phones didn't, like a dedicated camera button. I know, I wasn't planning to use the camera, but I started forgetting that, as well as the fact that I was unlikely to either buy music from Verizon or figure out how to move iTunes tracks onto this phone, so the stereo speakers and all its other music-playing features that inflated its size weren't going to get much use either. I liked that it had an external antenna. I do track the European cell-phone/brain-tumor studies, and all things being equal I think having an antenna that juts away from my head is a good idea.My 11-year-old daughter had been waving the Motorola KRZR in my face for about 15 minutes now, so I put Darth Leia down to look at it. It was definitely smaller than the LG, about the same width as my old Samsung, though a lot longer. It didn't have that nice curve of the Samsung, but at least the edges were slightly rounded. The voice quality was fine. The outside screen, a tiny LCD buried under mirrored glass, seemed essentially useless; next to Darth Leia's OLED it was laughable. Inside, with the store lights bouncing off its silver polished surface, the KRZR's number pad was impossible to read. No dedicated camera key; if I ever wanted to take a picture, it'd be a multi-step process. And another customer told me the KRZR had the annoying habit of beeping constantly after a missed call. It doesn't stop until you manually cancel it; that seemed really dumb.
I turned back to clunky Darth Leia. No way would it be comfortable in a pants pocket. But I reasoned that I usually carry my phone in my purse or have it sitting in the phone slot of my car, so perhaps I was making too big a deal out of the size issue. And the salesman assured me that the LG was one of the best built phones he had, with great sound quality; and if I was someone who was looking for function over form, clearly this was the phone for me.
Of course, I'm far above being seduced by mere style (OLED technology, maybe, fashion, never). So when, at this point, the kids told me to pick a phone and move on, I took Darth Leia.
I showed off the OLED screen to friends that evening. They were impressed. Still, every time I pulled the phone out of my purse, I cringed. It really was big and somewhat scary looking. I googled reviews of the LG; the reviews went on and on about its great camera and music player features, and, oh, yeah, it's a pretty good phone. I googled my second choice, the KRZR, too, also a pretty good phone, less great as a camera and music player. But it does weigh a little less than the LG. And, interestingly enough, given that it has only an internal antenna, it has a lower Specific Absorption Rate, or SAR, 1.03 watts per kilogram versus 1.28 watts per kilogram; my old Samsung clocked in at 0.98. (The legal maximum in the U.S. is 1.6.) The SAR is the amount of radiofrequency energy absorbed by nearby tissues when the phone is operating at its highest power level. If cell phones are causing brain tumors to develop, scientists suspect this absorption is the problem.
After a restless night dreaming of giant cell phones that ate Manhattan, I woke up convinced that I had made the wrong choice. Seduced by the OLED and all the great features I would never use, I forgot that what I really need is a small phone that has a decent sound quality, is comfortable to hold, and can tuck in any pocket. And Darth Leia is not that.
I took Darth back to the Verizon store and exchanged it for the KRZR. The mirrored keypad isn't as bad as I thought; and, though the external display is indeed useless, I never had one on my Samsung and never missed it. KRZRs come in several colors, I was leaning towards white, but I didn't have a strong preference, so I let my daughter talk me into red. It's sort of a retro-lipstick red, on a tall, thin, phone ... kind of Audrey Hepburn.
I've had Audrey for a week now, and it's doing just fine. I haven't had any trouble dialing (although once or twice I accidentally pressed "3" when I was trying to hit "End."). The alarm clock works. And the voice quality is great. One of these days, maybe, I might even try to take a picture. Or not. I just hope it lasts, because I really don't want to face cell-phone shopping again any time soon.