Dispatch From the Ninth Ring of Hell: My AT&T iPhone Dropped Calls 37 Times in One Day as V(erizon)-Day Approaches
So, this was my genius strategy on the should-I-switch-from-AT&T-or-not question with the rollout of the Apple iPhone on Verizon in one week:
Everyone else would ankle on over to Verizon, like a stampede of digital cattle, with promises of a more robust network, thereby lightening the load on AT&T and making it easier to hold a call.
That dream ran smack into reality yesterday, after my iPhone dropped calls 37 times, just as a plethora of reviews came rolling in about how the Verizon version does not drop them.
In fact, All Things Digital’s Walt Mossberg, in his Personal Technology column, was talking about me in this passage in his review:
“On the big question, I can say that, at least in the areas where I was using it, the Verizon model did much, much better with voice calls. In numerous tries over nine days, I had only three dropped calls on the Verizon unit, and those were all to one person who was using an AT&T iPhone in an especially bad area for AT&T: San Francisco.”
In other words, I am Patient Zero of dropped calls and, as many are, I am sick of it and want a change.
I don’t need to go into why this would be a good thing, because everyone who has had an iPhone for years with AT&T knows the situation.
Calls. Drop. All. The. Time.
To be fair, not all the time, but with a regularity in the U.S. that is almost comical. In fact, it is great for a punchline at speeches I give, if it were not so irksome.
But, after a while you seem like a whiner complaining–kind of like that person who yammers on about how bad traffic is in Los Angeles–since it has been the state of the situation since the dawn of iPhone.
But, on a recent round-the-world trip, it started to really bug me, since I experienced no dropped calls in either Europe or China on other wireless network carriers.
The feeling was euphoric. My phone actually made calls! And kept them! Like a mobile phone should!
I know: Pathetic.
Nonetheless, being able to have a conversation with my kids that did not drop off regularly–Hello, Loui…beep…Hello, Louie, it’s Mama callin…beep…Hello, Louie, it’s Mama calling to say please stop dangling your brother from the…beep–would be nice.
That’s why I might have to rethink my whole strategy of being the only one left on the AT&T network next week–might not be such a winner.
Because, like someone who might suddenly be able to belly up to the buffet at a restaurant that has heretofore been besieged by the marauding hordes, I might find the fare a little less than appetizing once I get to actually enjoy it.