Alarming

Yesterday was the lad’s last day at school, which means we’re now into the summer holiday. Usually, we’d be in the UK for some/much of this break, but this year we’re firmly entrenched in: sweltering heat, the occasional thunderstorm, rice and noodles, skating practice, mangoes and quadruple dustbin lorry rendezvous (is that also a plural?) each week. This is Taiwan Normal.

So it was that I dragged myself up to bed last night, relishing the thought of a Wednesday morning when I could sleep until I’d recovered from the rigours of the day just endured. Being a fairly well-organised sort of bloke, I’m usually careful about end-of-day procedures. Teeth cleaned, kettle boiled, lights and air-conditioners switched off, pill swallowed, washing-up left until the morning because sometimes I simply can’t be arsed, sweaty T-shirt and M&S undercrackers deposited in the laundry basket, and last but not least, alarm set. That’s about the sum of it. In view of what I’ve previously told you, there was obviously no need to set the alarm. Hurrah! I did, however, check that it wasn’t switched on. Here’s where it all went wrong. I’ll need to set you up for this, so, take a deep breath and try not to doze off. Frankly, it’s a bit dull, but such is life. Take it or leave it.

Alarms. Sleeping arrangements. Consideration. These are the players in this particular stultifying scenario. We do have an alarm clock, but I don’t like to use it as we all sleep in the same room (yes, we have lots of bedrooms, two of which have the children’s names on them, but it’s an Asian thing, apparently) so I don’t want to wake those who don’t need to be woken. I’m considerate. See? Thus, I use an old mobile phone. This one.

I’ve been using it for years. Perhaps six years; I think I bought it as an emergency phone on a return visit to the UK in 2014. It has a discreet vibrate function, so I can stick it under my pillow from where, cometh the hour, it will only wake yours truly and I can then wake the schoolboy. The only slight hiccough is that it used to switch itself on at the allotted alarm time, until maybe six months ago, when I found out to my cost that it decided that it would only work if already switched on. Luckily, it has no function as an actual phone, as it has no sim card for use in Taiwan, so having to leave it on all night is of no consequence, apart from the fact that the battery is all but buggered. Not to worry, I thought (six months ago), my Taiwan sim card is in this modern phone, so I could simply use that. In fact, this one.

Apparently, it’s known as a smartphone. It used to belong to Mrs T. Apparently she had what is known as an upgrade, so it was handed down, sans contract. I top it up with NT$100 every six months and that does me just fine. Thank you.

So, there I was, sound asleep, secure in the knowledge that said phone would wake me at 6.28am every week day. However, on the first day of the new-phone-alarm ers, at 7.03am, I woke from yet another nightmare. Inexplicably, I had slept through the alarm and the subsequent four reminders at three minute intervals, although I had no recollection of hitting the snooze option, not once, but four times. Having scrambled to get the boy to school on time, I returned to investigate. It seems I’m neither deaf, nor stupid (your view may vary). No. It seems that said smartphone’s alarm only works if the phone has not been turned off before being tucked under my pillow, which is precisely what I don’t want because it’s a working phone and it might ring in the night, or I might be zapped by all those nasty waves wriggling through my ears, deep into the inner recesses of my brain. It seems (and I confirmed this following a chat with Prof Gooooogle) that a smartphone’s alarm function only works when there is power coursing through the little blighter.

The old Samsung could do it (it could, it’s just failed), so why couldn’t its fancy antecedent? Smart, my arse.

Are you still with me? Good, ’cause the point of this whole story has yet to be made. That was the promised set up.

Recap. Last night. First night of the holiday; phone (old Samsung) switched off because I don’t need the alarm; tired; looking forward to sleeping until waking naturally (albeit with the very real threat that one or other sprog may well wake me before the optimum time, but that never changes); forgotten none of my last minute duties. Feeling smug.

Fast forward to 6.28am. After six months of not switching itself on (like it used to, remember?*), the sodding phone decided to wake me (and everyone else in the room, as it was vibrating loudly on the bedside table, rather than under my pillow as per a normal day). How the bloody hell did it know? Now that’s a smart phone. A bastard, evil phone, but a smart phone.

*I should also make it clear, for the sake of doubters of the veracity of this tale, that I have checked periodically to see if it has miraculously reverted to form. It had shown no signs of wanting to work while switched off. Not one.