Denis and I refused cell phones for a very long time because we didn’t want to be like you, my Friends, and be in touch with anyone, anytime. However, standing in a storm outside St. Louis airport because a Friend, thanks Donald, forgot what terminal we were at, and being lost in Nashville for important engagement, trying to get help from an infant Kroger’s clerk who’d never heard of a public PAY phone, we gave up.
We’ve also got Serena, a GPS, who fondly and frequently recalculates our routes without any complaints, and I’m so DONE reading maps and missing exits as I shout instructions across the nation’s freeways.
Last month we got a debit card. Yes. We were SHAMED into it by our daughter, who was with Denis when he checked out of Hy-Vee. He waited for the total, and as he wrote a check Marsena staged whispered: WHY don’t you use your DEBIT CARD? Denis: Because I don’t HAVE one. Eye-rolling from her. The young clerk, also an infant, cheerfully reported: Oh, it’s okay; a lot of our older (OLDER? Oh, never mind) customers still write out checks. From there, to the pharmacy, to the bakery, Denis wrote checks under the daughter’s sardonic eye. Finally to halt the abuse we’ve ordered Debit Cards. For the first time the other day as Denis rode shotgun, I screeched up to the ATM, without cracking off the side-view mirror, punched in the pin and got $200 cash. I could do this EVERY day it’s so much fun. We’ve only had one fight over who records what and how—I’m in favor of no records just prefer trust and hope, you know?
Last weekend the iPad came out and, Friends, I’m not waiting. With my Debit Card and Serena, I’m sure I can beat you to the Apple store in Minneapolis and be reading books in bed and playing with apps in no time.