I’m Not Here…oh crap, yes I am

When I was growing up, there were two ways to get a hold of me, knock on my door and see if I was home, or call me.  Oh you could roam my neighborhood and look around the trees or hills for me if you wanted, but that was a lot of leg work.  If my Mom or Dad needed me, all they had to do was stand on the porch and yell for me. If I didn’t hear them someone else did, and tell me breathlessly, “Your Mom’s calling for you!”

That was in the 70’s. In fact, up until 1990, the ony way to get a hold of me was to call, or come over. Once bbs’s hit the ground, and online services like Prodigy, AOL, compuserve, etc proliferated, things began to change. Pagers came into vogue, but fortunately cell phones were years away from mass consumption.  I had an email address now. Oh, and voice mail as well so you can leave me a message. However, very few of my friends were online then, or if they were , still preferred to call on the phone.  Pagers were good for emergencies, in case someone just HAD to talk to me, or if my plan to get weed went through or not.  Generally though, I ignored them.

And then came instant messaging. And say what you will about AOL-no, go ahead, I’ll wait-they perfected IMing like nobody’s business.  I think that was the start. From there it all seems to snowball. Instant messaging, cell phones, webcams, multiple emails, personal web pages, texting, facebook, myspace and now twitter. There’s no place left for me to hide. I’m out there for anyone with net access and my name/nickname.

This was all brough about because of a phone. My cell phone died on Monday. Wouldn’t work, wouldn’t take a charge. Nothing. Dead as the Republican Party. So I called my carrier and they Fed Exed me a replacement. since my previous phone was a discontinued model now, they sent me an upgrade. As I fiddled with it, I found out I can access the net with it, update myspace and facebook with it, as well as send text messages. Okay my old phone could send texts as well, but I don’t do it a lot. I’m just not a texter.

Or wasn’t. Let me backtrack a bit. I was on my way to the post office today, and a woman, obviously under the influence of something, said,”I’ll show ya my titties for a dolla!”

I declined. I made a counter offer instead. “I’ll give you a dollar if you go away.” I gave her a buck and she did, indeed go away.

Once she was out of earshot, I began to laugh. I wanted to tell someone, anyone, but there was no one around. So I upddated my facebook page with this story from my phone.

That’s when it dawned on me, there’s way too much communication. As of today I can be reached the following ways.

email (3 different accounts)

cell phone

text to cell phone

myspace

facebook

twitter

my blog

IMing

Or you can just knock on my door. If I don’t answer, it’s because I’m twittering. From my phone. In the bathroom.

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