If a writer melts down in the forest, does anyone read it?

I finally retired my dumb phone for a smart - aleck unit. It was a big step considering how proud I was that my phone did what phones were meant to do: make phone calls.

The true looser in this saga is my poor daytimer. I'm starting to think that at least half of the jobs lost in the last 2 years must have been in the pocket calendar industry.

Having such a technically advanced communication tool at your disposal requires a high level of responsibility. First, I had to ensure that my ring tone conveyed an adequate level of both vanity and immaturity (Peter from Family Guy singing Bird is the Word was the obvious choice to achieve both).

Then it was imperative that my new techno-calendar chimed in with constant reminders utilizing the vocal talents of the Oompa-loompas expressing their malcontent with parents who allow their children to demand bean feasts.

Once these chores were tackled it was clearly time to stumble gracefully into 1990s so that the real work could begin. I found it was possible to send a text to my blog so that my rants could be shared with the world (both of you) as soon as they came to my mind.

That was when things started to go awry........................

-b2