Audio-text

“Wait one cotton-pickin’ minute,” I said. “That snap-icon was red, which tells me this iPhone might be recording.”
Fiddle-faddle = “Toy not with the master.” I’m falling apart physically, but the old brain still works fine.
I had mistakenly caressed the text voice-recognition button. It gave me a red record icon.
When I record video with my iPhone, the snap-icon is also red.
I was doing a voice-recognition text to my aquacise therapist, who also has an iPhone.
Play-time! I should be walking my dog up-the-street, but it’s thundering. My weather-radar says a downpour is coming.
Something was on the keypad about holding down the microphone icon to record. Try it and see what happens, the way I figgered out most techno devices.
No classes, no manual: “Put that thing away. Real men don’t use manuals.”
If I touch and retract, it stops recording. Gotta hold down that red button.
When I graduated high-school in 1962, stuff like this was beyond imagining. My wife died six years ago. Back then this was probably nascent. My wife is missing out.
I sent the voice-text to my aquacise therapist after playing it back.
No response. I recorded another and sent that. I attempted a multiple voice-text, but one was to my hairdresser, a Google-guy. Has to be iPhone I guess.
Aquacise therapist responded, thinking I made a mistake. No one ever sent her a voice-text.
Yes, I had made a mistake, but I ran with it.
I then tried a multiple iPhone voice-text, and that sent. I also voice-texted a lady who I know has an iPhone. But she was in a public place. They woulda called security.
I have to tell others I’m talking to my phone, lest they call 9-1-1.
Land-o’-goshen! What will they dream up next? Them Apple programmers make life interesting.