Oct. 3rd, 2017

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T'other day, my family and I went to the AT&T store to replace my recently dead iPhone. It died on Thursday last week; one minute I was playing Pokemon Go, then I set it down on my desk, and ten minutes or so later picked it up to send a text. When the screen lit up, the left side was gray-flickery but showing the apps screen, and the right side was displaying only vertical grey and black stripes. Over the course of the next hour, I tried rebooting it several times, but no joy. By Saturday it had reached a point such that the only display was three very narrow vertical lines down the center of the screen.

September was a bad month for my technology. I may have mentioned that I had to replace my beloved MacBookPro because she got squished under a recliner. But neither of these things is actually what this post is about.

Prior to this visit to AT&T, Tammie has been the only one with insurance on her devices, because she is really good at breaking technology. There was the grapefruit juice on a laptop incident, the cellphone in her swimsuit top in the hottub incident, the phone flying off the roof of the car incident (actually it survived that one: thank you Otterbox)...so we told the salesman "her Native American name is She Kills Cellphones". He questioned whether we were actual Native, and we said, no, we're not, it's just a joke.

But ever since then, I've been feeling really bad about that joke. I think it might be racist and/or culturally appropriative. And I also feel like I need to tell the fam that we should lay off such jokes.

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