I thought I could control it. “I can shut this off any time I want,” I would tell my wife. But I never did. When phones merged with laptops, my life changed and I didn’t even know it.
I recall conversations at the Pentagon years ago when smart people told us that would happen. “One day,” they said, “phones, email, and the internet will all be found on one platform.”
I didn’t believe them.
They were right. Now that “one day” is here, I can’t put the little bugger down. I feel compelled to keep checking it in case an important text message or email arrives. Maybe there is an emergency and someone needs to call. And with the world being what it is, a person can never be too caught up on the news.
When the little tone rings that announces a new communique has come in, I am like Pavlov’s dog except instead of salivating, I rush to read the note. I guess I salivate a little too.
I didn’t realize I had a problem until just the other day when my wife and I both forgot to bring our phones with us to church.
After a brief panic, we felt a strange sense of exhilaration. We were free. We had escaped the matrix, gone off the grid. It was a wonderful, empowering moment for both of us.
That lasted until we got home, rushed in the door and wrapped our trembling hands around our devices, checking for emails.
