Fire

Where is my mulled cider?

I'm not a Luddite

Here I sit, on my couch, posting to my blog using my iPhone. I don't have to worry about capitalization or punctuation, or even spelling correctly as my iPhone auto-complete takes care of most of it for me. I'd like to say that I am so tech saavy that I understand it all, but I can unequivocally state that I have achieved the equivalent of 'can't program the VCR' status for my generation.

All I did was give my insanely small computing device a few passwords (that took me a shamefully long time to remember) and, Hey Presto!, the little blogging gremlins are running around at electron speed doing their magic.

In contrast, or irony, or simply under the category 'Things That Make You Go Hmmm': as I type, James Bond is wandering about Tokyo with Bond-girl Aki, speaking in telegram-ese into some ersatz (ooh, iPhone doesn't know ersatz!) communicator that is the size of a cigarette lighter. I'm pretty sure his communicator - unlike my iPhone - doesn't have a built in address book, arcade games, camera, notepad, voice recorder, banking applications..... Yada yada yada. Take that, 007! Oh wait. I'm comparing my 2009 self to a 1967 super-spy. And I do remember when "Chirp-beep-beep-chirp Kirk here" was a pipe dream.

Ooh, I just thought of a awesome ringtone! Now if I can only figure out how to get it on my phone.