When it comes to technology, the Japanese sure know their stuff. This is why, when shopping for a new phone, I always take a look at the newest offerings from Nokia.
A few days ago I signed up for a contract plan with AT&T and came away with a spiffy new N75 for $50. After taking it home and fiddling with it for the better part of a day (six hours), I returned it and opted for a Samsung slider that gets slightly better reception than two Dixie cups tied together with bakery string. I knew this about Samsung, though, so I take this one on the chin and move on. At least it was free. Or closer to $2400 if you consider the cost of the contract over two years, but whatever.
The difference between Samsung’s CDMA handsets and their GSM handsets is like the difference between cannoli and dog shit. (For those of you in Tifton, cannoli are better.) I don’t know what the problem is, but any Samsung phone on AT&T or T-Mobile is bound to exhibit more charmingly antisocial personality quirks than Ed Gein at a church potluck; it’s not that they’re bad phones, specifically, but certain design choices leave me shaking my head and wondering with more than idle curiosity exactly why the ham salad tastes a little funny.
For instance; the A737 is the third consecutive Samsung handset that I’ve used on AT&T in which it is impossible, after thorough scrutiny of all documentation and phone menus, to save incoming text messages directly to the phone. All incoming texts are saved to the SIM, which has an average capacity of about 30 messages, making it necessary to move each individual message to the phone one at a time. My initial response to this is to chuckle a little, then seek out an irresistibly cuddly little woodland creature and step on his adorable little head.
Why? Why do they torment me with delectable CDMA morsels of Ghirardellian temptation like the Hue, which is only available ’round these parts on the Lenny Small of wireless networks? Why do seemingly capable phones like the A737 and the Sync begin to shake and piss on themselves as soon as they’re mated to a GSM provider? It seems as though certain manufacturers shine like Van Eyck when dabbling in one particular air interface medium, yet go all Van Gogh on your ass when working in the other.
Which brings me back, in a roundabout way, to the Nokia N75.
Nokia knows GSM like Oprah knows Ho-Hos, so it’s no surprise that the N75 is generally well-regarded by industry mavens. My biggest problem with it is that it’s larger than I like a phone to be, meaning you could use the thing to paddle your way across the Styx in case Phlegyas is on vacation in warmer climes (cough-Florida-wheeze) that week.
One of the more annoying facets of the N75’s design is that it’s covered with chromed buttons and keys, which collect fingerprints like Mr. Moose collected ping pong balls. I’m one of those ambulatory antiques who thinks that shiny things with fingerprints all over them look like, you know, shit, and I’d prefer not to publicly doucherize myself by wiping down my phone every fifteen seconds with a microfiber cloth. If it hadn’t been for its ungainly heft and cheesy, blinged-out keys, along with the odd rubbery skin that covers the outside, and a UI that’s slower than Paris Hilton completing the Sunday NYT Crossword, the N75 and I would have been a perfect match. It’s too bad that these things so often don’t work out, but like Captain McCluskey, the N75 hadda go. It was just business. Nothing personal.
Its replacement, the Samsung A737, is capable enough, though not without considerable shortcomings. It’s impossible to select a different color scheme for the UI, so unless you’re a big fan of Halloween or the Cincinnati Bengals, you might be disappointed. The phone automatically engages the keylock every time the slide is closed, whether you want it to or not, which must be manually removed by either a button combination or sliding the phone open. There’s no way to change this, and it’s as annoying as providing room and board to an alligator. In your pants.
There’s the previously mentioned text-to-SIM problem. There’s also no way to change the packet data connection without contacting Samsung’s customer service. And, as usual, the signal strength isn’t the best.
Just a little bit o’ control over my own communications experience would go a long way towards drawing me fully into the Samsung GSM compound, spotty RF reception and all.
I’ll even bring my own Krazy Straw.