The one thing I don’t like about writing posts on the Palm Pilot is that they don’t go up according to when they were written, just when they were uploaded. The following are a couple of posts I wrote on the way to Sorrento. I’m back, I had a fabulous time, I’m way jet-lagged, and I’m processing some really horrible family news that has me reeling. More later as I settle down from everything. But for now…
Commentary from the road, Thursday: I’m on the train to Boston and sure enough this guy gets on at New Haven and starts in with the cell phone. He didn’t look the type at first — he raced on all out-of-breath, wearing cut-off sweats and looking like some mook. Next thing I know, however, he’s got the headset on, the phone in a little stand, and he’s making a volley of calls telling all his colleagues and clients where to reach him. He hasn’t stopped yakking away yet. Yes, chowderhead, a cell phone is a useful tool, but we’d all be much happier if you valued your privacy a little bit more.
Meanwhile, my own phone rings with a call from my landlord, warning me that there’s some danger of my 1200 square feet of basement apartment flooding if we get a lot of rain in the next week. Apparently, the pump that usually keeps all us cave-dwellers dry may have been damaged by some gas-line work. If all my things are destroyed by the time I get back from Italy, I’ll be one morose kid.