A few weeks ago I was crossing the street. It was cold — late February in the Winter From Hell here on the east coast — and I was wearing a heavy coat with an inside pocket for my iPhone. The device buzzed and vibrated. My heart quickened. I ran the remaining few yards to the curb. I pulled off my gloves, fumbled to open the buttons of the coat, and almost dropped my bag in the process. Finally I managed to pull out the phone. On the screen was the following message:
“Braves OF B.J. Upton has changed his name to Melvin”
This was delivered to me in the standard message format, no different than a New York Times alert informing me a building two blocks from my apartment has exploded, or an iChat message that my sister is desperately trying to reach me. Please note that I am not a blood relative of B.J. — sorry, Melvin — Upton, nor am I even a fan of the Atlanta Braves.
In other words… this could have waited.
I reflexively deny permission to 99% of the apps that ask to notify me of every stupid little thing so I have less of an issue with this but I do understand where Levy is coming from.
My Pebble has been set up so that only those notifications that actually matter are displayed on my wrist, and one of the things that constantly mentioned from Apple Watch reviews is the idea that, if you set it up right, only those notifications that are truly important will be sent on to your wrist.
This feature is good, it’s the way I have my iPhone and Pebble set up already.