Worst of the Week: The gov't wants you to know your numbers

Hello! And welcome to our Friday column, Worst of the Week. There’s a lot of nutty stuff that goes on in this industry, so this column is a chance for us at RCRWireless.com to rant and rave about whatever rubs us the wrong way. We hope you enjoy it!
And without further ado:
So it seems we Americans don’t know our numbers. And the government — you know those guys who are supposed to be us but they’re really not us because we would never do that – is going to make us learn ’em whether we like it or not because they’re good for us – like broccoli or spinach (both of which I like) or beets or brussel sprouts (assuming they have some nutritional value, but which I hate).
Those crazy Californians want us to know our SAR scores. Well, not all Californians, just the ones who care in San Francisco. Specifically, Mayor Gavin Newsom, who incidentally is running for Chief Terminator, and the Board of Supervisors, who either are his puppets or he’s their puppet because they all — except one — are on the same page. (This has all the makings of a sci-fi flick, don’t you think?)
Anyhoo, this leads one to ask what is a SAR score and what does it have to do with me. My answer, having fallen asleep early on when reading the actual ordinance and being so dazzled by Mayor Newsom’s web page – which just oozes of his caring for “the people” – is this: SAR stands for “Special Access to Radio-ation,” or as the Europeans prefer “Speciale Accesse Radio-atione,” that is the ability to access information on your handset, or your mobile, as the Europeans like to say. This “SAR” uses RF to connect your cellphone to a base station, and then the entire cellular network, where you can talk to all the people you want to talk to and even call the government. (San Francisco government general inquiries: (415) 701-2311.)
Even better, you can access the Internet from your SAR phone to find out how much puppets cost and where you can get one. Even better, you can access Mayor Newsom’s homepage and find out for yourself just how much he cares for “the people.” (Beware, he’s kind of a looker—which again makes this seem more like a Hollywood movie than real life, so I am still suspicious this could actually just be a movie, but I digress.)
So this SAR score is good – even Mayor Newsom says so – “I am not suggesting by any means that people should be fearful of using a cell phone.” But he must be angry his people (he cares, I tell you) don’t know the SAR numbers because he is insisting – and the board agrees – that it is placed on every phone sold at every store in San Francisco. (But if you are outside of the San Fran jurisdiction or an online retailer, he can’t help you, or he doesn’t care, I am not sure which.) And pay never no mind that Newsom said this: “This is similar to Prop 65, which dramatically reduced public exposure to toxic materials because chemical companies removed toxic ingredients from their products in order to avoid product warnings.” (To which I say, huh? Plot twist?)
The federal government controls the SAR numbers and they make sure the SAR numbers stay within safety limits. I’m sure Mayor Newsom trusts them but he just wants to be extra careful.
But the federal government has its own numbers issue. Specifically, the Federal Communications Commission isn’t happy you don’t know your broadband numbers. In fact, the FCC issued a press release that screamed in the headlines, that PEOPLE DON’T KNOW THEIR BROADBAND NUMBERS. (Editorial license taken). Later on, it happened to mention that most people (92%) are happy with their broadband numbers, but that’s not the point, people. WE DON’T KNOW OUR NUMBERS.
Now I don’t know what your excuse is, but I know mine. There are too many numbers. I know my social security number, my home phone, my cell, my kids’ cells, my mom’s numbers, my in-laws numbers, birthdays, anniversaries, 1492, checking account number, number of words needed to fill a tabloid-size junior page and number of words to fill magazine full page, old boyfriends’ birthdays, gate combination, outdoor storage combination… Oops, back up the truck — I don’t know that one. Nor do I know husband or kids’ SS numbers—I tried to learn those, really I did, but my brain is too small.
So I don’t know my broadband speed—maybe if the good people who conducted the survey that found that PEOPLE DON’T KNOW THEIR BROADBAND NUMBERS had asked the question without using numbers, we would have not flunked the test. See, if the question was: Is your Internet super slow, slow, medium, kind of fast, pretty fast, fast or Michael Phelps-in-the-pool fast, I bet people would have not flunked.
It’s the numbers thing that messes people up. Plus, I don’t know about you, but all the numbers stored in my head are starting to have to compete with the sounds on my laptop and my phone. There is a “ping” that means someone sent me an IM, there is a “wha-whop” that means someone sent me a Skype SMS, there is a “brrriinng” that means someone sent me a Facebook message, there is a regular “blip” that means someone sent me an email—and sometimes they all happen at once. But the good people who designed those sounds also used lights and stuff in case I need help remembering where to go to find the message that accompanies the sound. (See they know my brain is full so they help me by lighting up stuff.)
So leave me alone on the numbers bit. (Unless this is actually a Hollywood movie starring Johnny Depp as Mayor Newsom and I as Gwyneth Paltrow. Then ping me.)
OK, enough of that:
Thanks for checking out this week’s Worst of the Week column. And now for some extras:
–AT&T Mobility had to shut down pre-orders of the iPhone 4 because too many people wanted it and everyone was surprised. Why?
–And another thing: I am sick of the speculation that Verizon Wireless will get the iPhone. Either it will or it won’t. Or not now, but later. I liken it very much to kids asking, “Are we there yet?”
–I’m not saying FCC Commissioner Michael Copps was a bit overdramatic in his words at the FCC meeting on broadband regulation, but there were references to “bubbling cauldrons of trouble,” and the word “conspiratorial” was used—which more than made up for the wedding music that played before the meeting started.