The Day the Music Died
I was speaking with my co-worker Meredith today about my Twitter usage and SMS messaging in general, and I mentioned to her that I don’t really text all that much. Though the technology is useful and relatively cheap, my cell phone has the tiniest of keypads and it’s simply easier to wait until I’m in front of a real keyboard if there’s something that needs to be typed.
The conversation turned toward the popularity of texting among teens and, at one point, I actually said that “these kids today love texting to each other among their circle of friends.”
And it was at that exact moment that I realized (perhaps with a bit of disgust) that I’m old. Maybe not old old, but certainly sounding a bit too much like a soulless marketing consultant and fully formed adult instead of the man-child I’ve been masquerading as for the past decade.
So I think I’m going to leave work early today. I’ll be crying myself to sleep under the electric blanket if you need me, so I’d appreciate it if you could please turn off your fancy ringtones.
And get the hell off my lawn.





