Are we ever really alone anymore? Our cell phones are with us more than a newborn baby. Seriously, the cell phone sleeps next to us, goes to the gym, grocery store, doctor appointments, walks, work, and probably the bathroom (we would never take our babies in there.)

I don’t mind that it tracks my steps and floors without asking. I don’t mind that it gives me directions or suggests restaurants or gas stations in unfamiliar neighborhoods or strange cities. I don’t mind it answering all my trivial questions like what kind of spice is Sazon or how old is the lead singer in Berlin cuz she looks great here at the live concert where I’m rockin’ out.

What I really don’t like, is how it reads my texts or listens to my conversations and instantly sends an ad to my facebook feed for whatever item I discussed. I’m conditioned to expect ads after a google search for Nike sneakers or California Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Facebook doesn’t care if I bought the item already; the ads keep coming.

But the listening in or monitoring texts: freaky.  I was at work, talking to a co-worker about a high-end consignment service. Between the two of us, the name was probably mentioned three times. Next thing I know, a service I had never heard of showed up in my facebook feed.

Hubby experienced something similar. He was texting with our youngest son about which natural deodorant to buy. Within seconds, the recommended deodorant showed up in his social media feed. Hubby owns a Samsung cell phone and our son has the product most of the universe owns, iphone.

What is even crazier, our phones can speak different languages. My American-Czech friend was texting in Czech about a product X when shazam, an ad popped up in her feed, in English for product X!

Is facebook our big brother? Or is it our phones? Or both?

I’m not sure which big brother is hovering over our every word, written or verbal, but I’m growing cautious. The consequences are spooking me. It’s as if a person is getting revenge after overhearing a coworker trash talking them.

I decided to go on the offense when my phone started acting up.

“My phone storage is full. I’m not sure if the phone is too old or the software has a bug,” I whispered to Hubby in a room far away from my phone.

“Why are you whispering?” Hubby said in a normal speaking voice, a smirk creeping on to his face.

“I don’t want my phone to know I’m getting frustrated with it and that I’m starting to believe it might be too old.” I continued in my whisper.  “My apps are still randomly unloading.”

Quiet voices only when phones are present.

“Let me look at it,” said Hubby in a normal voice as we walked to the kitchen where my phone was parked.

“I think it’s my podcasts. I don’t know how to delete them after I finish listening.”

Hubby fiddled for a few minutes and couldn’t find a delete button for single episodes. “Do you care if I delete the app and load it again?”

“Nope. I don’t need to listen to them again.”

“Apple is stupid that way, making it hard to delete an episode so storage fills up. That’s why I left them.” (Actually, I think Apple is smart, sneaky smart.)

I wondered what might result from this out-loud revelation from Hubby. He was talking smack without a care. We received nothing. No, “Buy a Galaxy” or “Buy an iphone.”

I did notice a stealth “attack.”

With increased storage, the software automatically updated. My apps were fully loaded, but my battery power seems to drop more quickly. That is really suspect since I replaced the battery during the last tech scandal.

I consulted my best techie guy.

“Hubby, who is the evil eavesdropper on our phones?”

“As far as I know, anything connected to the internet is getting harvested: texts, emails, searches. Then the information is sold and shows up as ads.” Hubby surmised. “It’s becoming normal.”

“Yeah, but what about conversations?”

“Well, that’s like having an Alexa, only it’s in your phone.”

“So, if I say Cindy wore the ugliest dress ever, Cindy could find out?”

“Yes, but that’s not worth anything. Only things that can be monetized.”

“You mean my shopping lists are worth more than all the blog posts and books I spend hours and hours writing?”

“Yes.”

Smack! (Palm to forehead.