Sic transit cellular

Cell phone died today. Or maybe yesterday. I don’t know. I got a call from a friend, "Hello? Hello?".  They could hear me. I couldn’t hear them. It was like really good phone sex; all about me.

I hate talking on the phone. I mean I really really hate it. Without something to look while talking at my eyes start flickering around and then my mind starts wandering and the next thing I know I’ve inadvertently volunteered to be a test subject for an innovative new colonoscopy procedure, or worse I’ve agreed to attend a wedding. Unfortunately, for business purposes, I need to stay "connected" as they say and  since we no longer have a land line in the house: the cell phone.

And today the chirpy little bastard died.

That means that tomorrow I have to go to the phone store (Verizon and, yes we like Verizon and, no, I won’t switch to AT&T so I can get a iPhone) where a salesperson (who most likely recently graduated college with a business degree only to discover that P&G wasn’t interested) will attempt to sell me a phone that contains multitudes: internet browsing, touchscreens, email access, GPS, Hubble-quality camera, salad tongs, and death ray. Actually I could use the death ray.

So…touchscreen? Blackberry*?  Anyone? Anyone?

* I can’t wait for the Blackberry Storm but I’m leery of being an early adopter anyway so, you know…. whatever.