Not Connected

It doesn't seem all that long ago -- actually six years to be exact -- that I would often declare I didn't want a cell phone and since I refused to use one while driving, who needed it?! Now, I don't leave home without it. A couple of days ago my trusty new Nokia, which has replaced the last two that didn't work right, decided it does not like living in my purse any more than its buddies. It keeps taunting me by shutting off and on, will not let me make or retrieve calls or check messages and keeps playing a very annoying little tune as if to announce its glorious, but useless, presence.

Okay, I had held onto my old, bigger, ugly phone that has been dropped on the pavement and swum in the toilet (I bumped it with my hairbrush one morning and it literally flew through the air into the john.) The others have not been subjected to such indignities, so don't go saying, "User problems"! So I used the old stand-by to call customer service at my provider who would not speak to me because that phone was not now registered with them. After pushing 0 enough times I finally reached someone who told me to turn on the faulty phone. Although I could not open the battery compartment because they have it sealed worse than Ft. Knox and he seemed to think I was a weak, incompetent whiner, he said he would try to work on it at his end while I stayed on the phone, which promptly went dead.

After a couple of moments, okay hours, of fretting, I realized the old days weren't so bad. I still have Ma Bell, who has changed her name, for local calls only but should I be desperate to have a pizza delivered, I'll be okay.

The new year is starting off pretty quietly around here.