Well, I have taken my recent penchant for losing things to new heights this weekend by losing my mobile phone. Which is fine in a way, because as I've written here before, mobiles are a nuisance, especially to those of us who remember life before them (old fart). Who wants to be contactible at all times, day and night, by anybody who feels like reaching into your life and pulling out your carefully constructed peace? But I have to have a mobile for the day job. And I have a few friends, deep and modest, who I don't see very often and rely on electronic means to contact them. Now I've lost my phone I don't even have their number to call them to give them MY new number.
Perhaps this will encourage me to develop a few friendships in real living human fleshy time rather than three times removed by distance and technology? We'll see.
Anyway, my apologies to anyone who's trying to contact me. You're probably going to reach whatever spotty, glue-sniffing, knuckle-dragging, white-trackie-bottomed, baseball-cap-wearing, scooter-riding illiterate picked the phone up, at least until Vodafone get the email I just sent and bar my SIM. Say hello for me.
2 comments:
there are times i wish mine was gone -
this phone
this connection
to the world
i some days don't
want to be part of
yeah, i know what you mean
You speak my language Tom. How are you, feller?
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