Frank J. Buchman

Cowboy • Horseman • Writer

Old Cellphone’s Just Fine

“You can’t send pictures from a cellphone to a computer.”

Two grizzly-type young bucks seated behind tables with screwdrivers strewn around cellphones declared.

First off clarify driving in the Capital City is difficult after growing up in a small town. It wasn’t a problem delivering groceries up and down alleys unaware of street names yet knowing where everybody lived.

Getting anywhere in a metropolis is a headache with bumper to bumper traffic and red lights. A lot of work could be done while just trying to travel from one place to the next.

Maybe those on hourly wages like it but for a salesman time is money. Every contact not made is one less opportunity to make a sale.

Anyway, after finally locating that cellphone repair shop, proprietors declared emailing cellphone photos to computers as done before is “impossible.” Perhaps there was some confusion between the cowboy’s terminology than that of the gurus?

Arguing less than typical with such smart whippersnappers, they congenially-enough informed the relic couldn’t be fixed. “It’s outdated and a new cellphone must be purchased.”

No way is a tightwad going to buy another one of those gadgets. It’s only six-years-old, still rings sometimes and works if anybody really needs to talk.

“There a place ‘just around the corner’ that can create a password to save messages,” the smarties admitted.

“Just around the corner” has different connotations between the ones talking and a cowboy listening. No spoofing, it took five minutes to get out of the parking lot to attempt finding that other suggested business.

Never did locate it that afternoon, giving up, going back to work and finding the address.

Days later still determined to seek cellphone assistance, “around” the same half-block three times, the store really was there.

Two counters, four insignia-clad employees, and 17 “old people” waiting in line. After a while one of the new-cellphone-workers questioned: “Your first name to be called for assistance?”

Forty-two minutes later, squirt squinted at the artifact ten minutes: “Oh we don’t sell this kind. Call the factory.”

Lo and behold an on and off and on Timbuctoo call, password set saving messages.

Nice in-office girl proved cellphone pictures can be sent to computers.

Old phone works just fine for old cowboy.

Reminded of Jeremiah 6:16: “The old way is the good way.”

+++ALLELUIA+++

XIV–1–12-29-19

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