Arrow-right Camera
Subscribe now

This column reflects the opinion of the writer. Learn about the differences between a news story and an opinion column.

Front Porch: Smartphone’s talk-to-text mistakes prove it’s really a stupidphone

I may be old enough to remember rotary phones, but like many Gen Xers, I’ve adapted to technology.

The whole Blackberry thing bypassed me, so when I got my first cellphone, I used the text function the way God intended – slowly picking through the alphabet with my pointer finger.

Hipper friends whizzed out messages using the two-thumb method, while I just shook my head. My thumbs don’t work that way.

I employed proper punctuation and grammar and eschewed texting lingo except for an occasional LOL or OMG. Seriously, how much time would I save by typing “u” instead of “you?”

But with more and more of my work and personal communication done via text, I realized my hunt-and-peck method took too much time.

Then I discovered the little microphone on my phone transcribes my spoken words to text. It should be a terrific time-saver, but unfortunately, I didn’t get a smartphone – I got a stupidphone. How else to explain the mortifying messages it regularly sends? Messages I then must decode and resend to the recipients.

For example, the exciting news of my first book’s publication got garbled. I sent an announcement to those in my contact list. Instead of “Publisher wants ‘War Bonds’ for spring catalog,” my pals were informed, “Publisher wants your buns for spring catalog.”

I’m unable to share the replies because most of them were GIFs and emojis unsuitable for print.

My phone can’t even get my name right.

Talk to text changes Cindy Hval to “Cindy of All.” I was OK with that, but lately, it learned a new trick. I texted a source and it identified me as “Cindy Evolved from The Spokesman-Review.” I’ve just decided to go with that and am considering amending my business cards.

When I tried to tell my husband I had an interview at the Jundt Museum it turned into Bundt Museum. We don’t have one of those in Spokane, but I’d cover it if we did.

On several occasions, my shortcut landed me in hot water with Derek. For example, every time I talk-text about meeting my friend Jill for lunch or Happy Hour, Jill becomes JOE.

“You spend a lot of time with this Joe guy,” said Derek. “Should I be worried?”

Then I tried to let him know one of his favorite Van Halen songs was playing.

“Daniel Santa got in my car, and Hot for Teacher came on the radio,” I texted.

“So. You took Santa for a ride?” he asked.

It went downhill from there and I still don’t know who Daniel Santa is.

Speaking of Jill/Joe, recently, I tried to confirm a lunch location with her, and “On Monroe, for heaven’s sake,” became “On Monroe, we’re having sex.”

I guess you can see why Derek’s worried.

Even Dame Agatha Christie isn’t spared. Talk-text changed “There’s a new Agatha Christie on Prime” to “There’s a nude Agatha Christie on Prime.”

No one wants to see that.

Once, I tried to confirm a spa appointment, and my phone changed it to spay appointment. So, I guess I’ve been fixed.

Sometimes, my mishaps end up in our family lexicon, like the time I let our son, Sam, know I’d made some treats.

“I saved you some fudge in a Ziploc bag in the fridge. The white time is butter dum fudge. It’s new and it’s really good.

  • kind
  • rum

Good grief.”

Haha! You talk texted that didn’t you?” he replied.

Now, every Christmas I make Butter Dum fudge.

I should know better, but I often use the talk-text feature to post on social media. I invented a new sandwich when “Patty Melt” became “Party Melt” on a food blogger’s Instagram account.

When I tried to vent my frustration to a friend about my latest phone-induced embarrassment, “talk to text” turned into “talk to test.”

Apparently, that’s an exam I continue to fail.

Send your texting tales: I can’t be the only one this happens to. Send me your talk-to-text gaffs at dchval@juno.com Please only include those suitable for print in a family newspaper! Include your full name and contact information and your example might be featured in an upcoming column.

Cindy Hval can be reached at dchval@juno.com. Hval is the author of “War Bonds: Love Stories from the Greatest Generation” (Casemate Publishers, 2015) available at Auntie’s Bookstore and bookstores nationwide.

More from this author