You know what really frosts my flakes? Apps. Everything needs an app today.
They tell me there are nearly 9 million of them. Nine million! That’s not convenience. That’s a digital junk drawer nobody can close.
I need an app to shut my garage door. An app to change the temperature in my own house. An app to deposit a check that used to take 30 seconds at the bank.
I need an app to save a dollar on groceries. An app to order a hamburger. An app just to walk into a theme park I already paid for.
I need an app to pay a bill. An app to call a taxi. An app to buy a ticket.
And my personal favorite, an app to prove to a robot that I’m not a robot.
Then there are apps to count my steps, track what I eat or tell me if I snore.
I don’t need an app for that. I’ve got knees, a mirror and a spouse.
A friend of mine even has an app to check the temperature of his meat. In my day, we used a $3 thermometer and common sense. If the turkey wasn’t done, you put it back in. Nobody needed Bluetooth.
Here’s what really gets me, none of these apps talk to each other. They all want passwords, updates, notifications, and access to my firstborn child.
And every single one of them says, “Enable notifications for a better experience.”
No way! Peace and quiet is a better experience.
I’m Grandpa Grumpy. If something requires an app just to work, it probably didn’t need to exist in the first place.