David Shapiro: I may look like a dork, but at least I can hear you say so

I’m a snob about being unstylish, and when the new Apple Watch came out a few years ago I mocked people I saw wearing it.

Why would anybody want to wear an ugly, brick-shaped watch that looked the same as everybody else’s and had to be charged daily — sometimes more than once? Why not just get the time from the omnipresent cellphone?

Then, as age and multiple sclerosis made me more prone to falling, I looked for a panic-button necklace like my grandmother wore to summon help if she got in trouble while alone.

Some of these simple devices sold for up to $200, with monitoring services up to $50 a month.

Suddenly, spending $400 on an ugly watch didn’t seem so stupid when I found out it has its own SOS button that can notify 911 or your emergency contacts if you need help.

If your phone is within 50 feet or so, which mine always is, you can use the watch to actually make a phone call to 911 or a family member to explain your predicament.

The watch detects when you fall and automatically sends out emergency alerts if you’re unresponsive afterward. It monitors sleep, takes a basic EKG, constantly checks heartbeat and alerts you if its too fast, too slow or irregular — all with no monthly fee.

So I wear it and try to disguise it with bands even uglier than the one it came with. I pretend I’m unstylish because of the uses I put it to.

The Apple Watch is mostly used by active folks to listen to music, check text messages and track their burn rate while they run, cycle and dancercize their way to fitness; I use mine to make unfitness sustainable.

I also scorned Apple’s $159 AirPod wireless earbuds that leave white stubs hanging out of your ears, looking like you forgot to remove the Q-tips after the last cleaning.

I marveled at how something that looked so dorky could be regarded as such a status symbol.

That was until my wife showed me an article on how the wireless earbuds, using amplification from the phone, can be serviceable as hearing aids.

In that light, $159 didn’t seem so outrageous compared to the $2,000 medical hearing aids I bought some years ago that didn’t help my loss of hearing much.

I bit on the buds, and while they aren’t the best hearing aids for every circumstance, I seem able to hear the TV and movies as well as with costlier devices.

I can hear more of what my wife says, which is a real blessing — for her.

Now I can hear what the politicians I interview tell me. If I learn doublespeak, I’ll be able to understand them, as well.

Reach David Shapiro at volcanicash@gmail.com.