Cell Phones and other evil gadgets

Jackie received something called a text message on her cell phone, a nasty piece of high-tech horror presented to her by granddaughter Jennifer. I knew from the day it came into the house that it would be just another time-wasting, tranquility-destroying intruder that as a terrorist puts Osama Bin Laden to shame. I was right, of course.
As anticipated, Jackie couldn't call up her text message so she turned the cell phone and a thousand-page instruction manual over to me. I, too, was unable to find the text message but did discover that in the nightmarish world in which people who send and receive text messages live it is spelled TXT message. And we wonder why the English language, or anything coming even close to a recognizable imitation of it, is on the endangered species list.
While leafing through page after page of undecipherable instructions and at the same time playing around with the little monster itself I did manage to do one thing. I accidentally took a picture - an upward view of my own nose. This did serve the purpose of reminding me it is time to get out the nose and ear hair trimmer. I could not, however, determine how to call up this picture after inadvertently hitting another button.
So I'm sick of the high-tech era and all the useless and expensive gadgets it has inflicted on a gullible public. I don't even know what most of them are or what, if anything, they do. What exactly is a blackberry? Or a blue tooth? I thought plasma was something they shot into a person needing more blood. Then there is the silly bit of nonsense found in cars that tell someone too stupid to read a map how to get to where they want to go. One more evidence of dumbing down.
Jackie's text message - oops, TXT message - is still floating around somewhere in cyberspace and I am not a bit sorry about that.
How did we ever survive before all this high-tech stuff came along? Happily. Blissfully content in knowing we were capable of finding our way to the convenience store on the corner without the help of anyone or anything. And, of course, basking in the glow of contentment that comes from being off somewhere without anyone knowing where you are - a place where no one can call you on a despicable cell phone and say, "What are you doing?"

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