What is so seductive about texting, about keeping that phone on, about that little red light on the BlackBerry, is you want to know who wants you.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I don't mind if somebody texts me but I'm not a big texter, the things are too small. I don't mind if they text, '7 o'clock,' that's fine, that's logistics but, 'What's up?' Get real! Pick up a phone!
It's probably this way with a lot of professionals: At first the BlackBerry is a savior, because it makes you mobile, but then it becomes a curse, because you're at a restaurant and looking down at it under the table.
It's funny how intimate it feels to get a text.
I like texting as much as the next kidult - and embrace it as yet more evidence, along with email, that we live now in the post-aural age, when an unsolicited phone call is, thankfully, becoming more and more understood to be an unspeakable social solecism, tantamount to an impertinent invasion of privacy.
People who text a lot are not my favorite thing.
Texting is a lot like an answering machine. If you don't want to talk to somebody, it's like screening your calls. To me, it's a way of communication, but not one that I favor.
What I'm seeing is a generation that says consistently, 'I would rather text than make a telephone call.' Why? It's less risky. I can just get the information out there. I don't have to get all involved; it's more efficient. I would rather text than see somebody face to face.
What makes our product work is the way we're tightly focused on messaging and being an SMS replacement.
Texting is a supremely secretive medium of communication - it's like passing a note - and this means we should be very careful what we use it for.
I don't text, I don't have a Blackberry. Literally, I just have a cell phone that I haven't programmed and the whole Bluetooth. No. I don't even have an earpiece for my cell phone.