The first is universal accessibility. Right now we have to focus on developing amazingly innovative technology. But the mobile Web is still so new that we can’t help but focus on products and technologies that are only accessible through high end, cost prohibitive devices and services. I’d love to see devices that don’t marginalize the elderly with small print and tiny keyboards. I can’t wait for the day when third world villages can realistically afford several mobile devices. Think of the revolutionary social change that can come from free and open access to information. Specifically, I often think of the unscientific folk remedies associated with HIV that have exponentially increased rates of infection and death. Something as simple as access to Wikipedia or WebMD could have a drastic effect on belief and behavior. Social change for the better can ocurr, but the localization of the Web that Mozilla encourages can help preserve the best parts of traditional culture. Marginalized ethnic groups such as the Saami, the Kurds, and various Native American tribes have readily adapted to the web, finding stronger ways to keep culture, language, and traditional practicies alive.

My second mobile dream is to see open source Web technology smoothly integrated into all facets of our lives. I want the term “mobile” to be come obsolete. “Mobile” should become the default way we access the Web, not the exception. We’ll need a new term for mobile devices altogether — “pod,” or maybe the term “Browser” will come to mean an entire mobile device in itself. I eventually want to have a mobile device that accesses the Web as easily and smoothly as my laptop. I want to come home and drop it in a pod at my home where it communicates with my house. My security system, kitchen appliances, and entertainment system would talk to my mobile device. Television as we know it is now gone — it’s all web based and on demand, and if I enjoy a program I can tell my TV to send it to my mobile. But my ultimate mobile dream device?

How about something with four wheels, a powerful yet environmentally friendly engine, and enough vroom-vroom to turn some heads?

Oh yes, a car. Maybe it’s because I’m an American and maybe even more so because I’m from L.A., but cars have always been a part of my life and nothing beats hitting the open road in a vehicle of your own. And every time I get into my car, I think about how awesome it would be to have a vehicle perform as an open source mobile device. A community developed add-on runs a full diagnostic on my vehicle every time I get in or out, and stats are instantly relayed to my pod. Fuel economy, tire thickness, the responsiveness of my brakes, and the coefficient of friction on an icy road are all presented to me. While I’m out on my travels, my mobile pod recharges in my vehicle, and both maintain contact with my home, alerting me instantly if there is an unauthorized entry or if the roast in the oven starts to burn. And when all systems are go and it’s time to roar down the I-5 to go down south, my car’s operating system knows which verbal command means that it’s time to access the music collection on my pod and crank up the AC/DC. Like a good Californian, I don’t actually need a map to get most places. (As any Angeleno can tell you, we know every side route, back road, and alternate travel plan there is.) But in the event that I should need directions, I don’t need some silly separate GPS device to tell me where to go. Maps are already online, and GPS is built in to the vehicle and communicates seamlessly with the Internet.

I want to see smooth integration between the digital and real world. I want to have control over my data, and I want it to follow me around, instead of me going out of my way to find a place to access it. I want no differentiation between the mobile and stationary web. Shoot, I don’t even want segregation between computers and any device more complicated than a refrigerator.

And while I’m at it, I want my car to be programmed to speak with the voice of Harrison Ford, Sean Connery, or Hugh Jackman. Or all three. That’s not too much to dream for, is it?

There’s always something. In elementary school, it was the Walkman. If you didn’t have a Sony Walkman while you strutted down the street in an L.A. Gear jacket and three pairs of multicolored scrunchy socks, you weren’t cool. Then it was laserdisc. Then it was Palm Pilots. Now, it’s the iPhone. The electronic status symbol of the moment.

As a piece of technology, I think the iPhone is sophisticated, elegant and useful, though unreasonably high end, feature-packed and pricey for the general user. I also refuse to own a phone made of glass as I drop my mobile at least twice a day. (When I look for practical design in my personal electronics, reinforced concrete is a plus.) But my reason for hating the iPhone has nothing to do with its design (which is solid) or its functionality (which is impressive).

I hate iPhone culture, if you can call it that. I get having a fun new toy and wanting the world to see it. But while a truly mobile Web is an amazing feat, it should be amazingly low-key. I’ve seen the Internet before. That’s fantastic that you can access it from anywhere now, but I’m not going to scream out “OMFG look it’s maps.google.com!” so don’t bother bragging. Genuine exitement is fine, but I’m not impressed with those just wanting a status symbol. If it meets your needs as a user and you feel it’s worth the hefty price tag, great. If not, don’t bother prattling on about how I should get one. I’m not breaking up with my LG Chocolate because it’s perfect for me.

Those who haven’t become name-dropping showoffs have become brainwashed hermits. While the UI is slick and impressive, people have completely missed the point of it. You’re supposed to be able to do things faster and easier, so in theory you should spend less time sitting there stroking it and staring at it. I was out to dinner with a friend the other night and we didn’t have any conversation at all because he just sat there rubbing the dumb thing and muttering to himself “yesss . . . we lovesss you, my presshhhhusssss . . .”

Text messaging is bad enough, and now it’s getting worse with mobile Web addiction. It creates conversational ADD and enables twits to be rude at the movies, the dinner table, and even during sex. Yes, I know people who have interrupted sex to send a text message. (Don’t believe it happens? Remember the Paris Hilton video?) The iPhone enables a certain segment of the society that doesn’t understand that constantly stroking your tool is NSFW. Something needs to be done about that. I’m thinking tasers and attack drones might do the trick.

If you have an iPhone, good for you. But don’t forget that while the immobile Web is obsolete, so is bad etiquette.

However, this meant that I had to cancel the phone contract I had with AT&T. UGH. I had to make a preliminary call in the early stages of my new phone research to find out when the end of my billing cycle was and what was involved in ending my contract. What I got was a litany of roadblocks preventing me from getting to the answer I wanted. I knew I wanted to leave AT&T. They didn’t offer any phones that met my needs, and the plans they offer weren’t so spectacular as to make me want to compromise. They asked why I was dissatisfied with my service. I was told that my unhappiness over high overage fees was my own fault because I talked too much, and would I like to renew a two year contract and pay more? No. No. No. What is the last day of my billing cycle so I know when to get my new phone to allow at least ten days of overlap? The fourth of the month. Thank you. GOODBYE.

It’s a technique called the “soft no.” Sales reps are required to do it, because it often works. By undermining the justifications for your decision, sales people can distract, embarrass, or fluster a shopper to get them to waste money on something they don’t really need or want. In general, don’t talk to sales reps unless you are very stubborn or have made an iron-clad decision. I had to call back just now to cancel my old account, but this time I was prepared with the necessary plot to take a short cut through the nine circles of customer service hell.

How did I do it? I flat out lied. Flagrant lies are noted below with an asterisk:

(See, this is how it all started last time. I said “no, I want a phone you don’t offer” last time and ended up spending over ten minutes trying to get the customer service drone to stop asking me questions I didn’t want to answer. But me so clever:)

Me:	Oh, I’m not leaving AT&T*. My husband* is adding me to a family line* that will be more convenient for us. I want a new number because we moved*, so I’m just closing this old one down, that’s all*. Tee hee!
Drone:	Oh, I see. Well, if you would like to transfer this phone line to a relative under the age of 18 we can waive the activation fee.
Me:	I don’t have any underage relatives*.
Drone:	All right then . . . thirty seconds of typing sounds . . . well, then if that’s all the last day that this line will be active is June 4. We appreciate blah blah blah blah blah and you have a wonderful day.
Me:	You too. Thanks! Bye!

BAM. That’s how you foil even the dastardliest efforts of a customer service drone who’s been programmed to detonate your ability to make free choices. Shoot, I probably made that drone’s day because she didn’t have to go through the long song and dance and listen to me become increasingly angry. The really crappy part is that companies like AT&T carefully track this kind of data to find out why people are leaving so that they can attempt to make their cell phone plans just palatable enough for people to swallow them. And now they’ve gotten some useless data because I just didn’t feel like putting up with their crap.

Attention AT&T Worms: Please add your irritating attempts to curb customer departure to the list of reasons I left you. Don’t take it personally. I’ll probably have the same thing happen one day when I leave Verizon for something better. In the meantime, give me some Chocolate!