It’s amazing that it still worked, really. A cell phone, circa 1997, found in the midst of moving from one apartment to another, in the bottom of a box that hadn’t been fully unpacked in the last several moves. But after plugging it in and swapping out the Cingular Wireless SIM card for one from a carrier that was still in business, the thing picked up a signal. The sound quality on the call was poor - whether as a result of the outdated cell radio or a decaying speaker - but it was good enough to have a chat with an old friend.
Going through the device’s menus was like seeing ancient technological history, from among the first cell phones reasonably affordable for a high school student. Some memories, such as playing snake on the monochrome display, were fond. Others, such as trying to text someone using T9 input and particularly bad autocomplete, less so.
After almost an hour of playing with the phone, I unplugged it and tossed it back in the box. Maybe I’ll unearth it again in another 20 years, when it is an even more ancient relic.
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