Connecting People

Last week, after a very successful trip to Rough Trade East and my New Favourite Bar, I wound up on the tube back to King’s Cross with a lovely mate. On flopping onto the seats, what should we find but an old Nokia handset? I’m sure you know the sort – no camera, no music player, beepy ringtone and worn plastic buttons. Having gone through four of them myself last year, I know both the pain of losing them and their extraordinary resilience. These phones are infinitely preferable to modern flippy, slidey touch-screen phones that scratch easily, weigh a ton and have a tiny battery life because they have so many applications. Their simplicity (calls and text messages and that’s about it), genuine durability and universality (everyone’s got at least one spare Nokia charger) mean that they will be around for ages. I fully expect to lose my ridiculous Nokia Klingon phone and to have to revert to my standby brick at some stage, and that doesn’t bother me – just as long as I keep a record of the numbers and upload the photos to my laptop. With that in mind, we decided to attempt to return the phone to its owner, simply by texting the most recent messagers on it. The owner called it the next day and came to meet me near work, giving me a firm handshake, genuine thanks and a box of chocolates. Both he and I were pleased that such a thing could happen in London. And whilst it would have been easier to hold on to the phone and use it next time, the sense of having done something friendly and yet very simple was unmatchable, and really put me in a good mood. Karma, man. So next time you find an old phone, be virtuous – you already have at least one phone, and quite possibly a standby, take the initiative and give it back to its rightful owner. A simple, honest and free Staple. Other Staples this week:
Nokia brick phones (and their safe retrieval)
Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings' new album, ‘100 Days, 100 Nights’
Ten-pin bowling in Elephant and Castle
Rough Trade East
Eating Nutella from the jar
A stripy Reiss woollen scarf
Tusker East African lager 

[Insert Apple pun here]

So, as a result of the deathly illness that has struck me, I've spent nights in with my trusty laptop on which I am typing now, and I've been reminded just how important the internet, and available access to it have become. The free wifi has been a little intermittent this week, and without it, I've felt more isolated than I expected. However, typing as I am now, with a full fan of internet signal, sitting on my bed with the Mac balanced on a B-Store shoebox and the Guillemots in the background, I'm reminded of just how lovely it is to have this invisible connection with the world. And, perhaps more importantly, a device so ergonomic and efficient that if my wifi disappears here, I can pack up and go to Camino (or anywhere with interweb) and set up in 30 seconds. There's something appropriately edible about Apples; the glossy finish, soft touch and veritable malleability which makes using them a complete pleasure to use. The idea of a fully portable, uncomplicated portal which can store all my music, photos, writing and can allow me to book tickets, talk to my mates, do my banking, shop, meet people, even work is fabulous. And the added bonus of looking like a spare prop from 2001 is the icing on the cake. I am truly a convert; after years of crashing, boxy beige PCs and constantly breaking laptops, Apples really are top banana. Other, less pun-worthy Staples this week:
Apple laptops
The Baz Luhrman-directed Chanel No. 5 advert
Bloomsbury Bowling Lanes
A diamante spider brooch
Thornton's Advent calendars
Ian Curtis' biopic, 'Control'
Nutella