Thursday, March 31, 2011


Remember when parents used to torment their offspring with stories about walking uphill five miles everyday to a blizzard, barefoot?  I can top that.

When I was a kid, our family had one phone.  It was attached to the wall in the kitchen; the cord was about four feet long.  I was allowed to use it 30 minutes a day to talk to my friends.  After that, I had to either go over to their house or wait to talk to them at school the next day.

And if my friend lived out of town?  I had to use paper, ink and a stamp.

I had a traumatic childhood.

These days we have a plethora of communication choices.  I like to email, talk on my cell, instant message, post to Facebook, blog...etc. etc. etc.  All of these methods are easy, accurate and pretty much instantaneous. 

But I hate texting.

There are lots of reasons I dislike this method of communication.  For one thing, it takes me a while to hit all the little buttons.  And even when I get them right, my message often ends up looking like this...

I don't have box time to in.


I just but my finger really sad.


I'll come he I have to.


How did the came sound this morning?

My son was just telling me (via text) that my phone predicts the words I use most often.  I texted back...

On, not mind. 

I know there are lots of phones out there much fancier than mine.  My coworker's phone enables her to speak her message, and then it transposes it into a text.  That's pretty crazy.  I don't think I can justify spending the money required to have that kind of technology.

Then again...last week I sent this to a girlfriend...

Do you want to come over Saturday and sex?

It might be worth it.

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