Mobile phone chronicles

In a brazen coup, the mobile phone finally ousted the old home telephone and sent it to pasture. Until the apparition of this pesky upstart, the home phone was the undisputed king of the hill… but no more. The kid now reigns supreme.

Ô rage ! Ô désespoir ! Ô vieillesse ennemie !

The mobile phone is a little technological marvel that allows you to do unimaginable things. But most of the users are unaware of its full potential and utilize only a small percentage of its capabilities. The embarrassing truth is that the smartphone is too smart for many grownups. It is adept at many things and many languages with humans lagging far behind.

A long time ago (before the Pandemic), when somebody said “I will be touch with you,” it meant that this person would eventually call you. But today, they might not necessarily do so; for all kinds of murky reasons many people prefer to leave a message rather than talking mano a mano.

Some people have a preferred mode of communication and it does not always match your own preferences. So, a text sent with Messenger for instance, might not reach somebody who favors Messages.
Atop Mount Olympus, the Gods are laughing at this new Babel situation.

“Although we live in an information technology age, we often find ourselves in failure to communicate situations.” Johnny Tan

 A mobile phone’s usefulness is only limited by its user’s knowledge, and today the kids hold the keys to this domain. Even though some can barely read, at age 5 they have already mastered the intricacy of the magic little box.
No wonder… they cut their teeth on this pacifier in the crib.

If you are an old guy (40+) and if you need any help with your smartphone, ask your grandkids. For the modest fee of a lollypop or two they will set you straight…

But don’t ever (even under duress) give them your passcode! Otherwise, in the near future, you might see an influx of Amazon Lego boxes landing on your doorsteps.

A mobile phone is like a magic wand. You wave it and something amazing happens. But mind the Sorcerer’s Apprentice story! Don’t overestimate your knowledge and don’t venture into uncharted waters.

By the way… Don’t call me… I will send you a texto you the minute  I will get out of the loo.


Crap… I gained weight!

Holy chocolate soufflé! I just realized that as a result of our last 6 weeks of confinement, my weight has expanded significantly!

Even though I have not been eating more than usual (or so it seems), I have ballooned like an overfed congressman. And I am pretty sure that I am not the only person awakening to this sorry reality.

Thinking of it though, I am starting to believe that my wife’s sudden enthusiasm for baking might have had something to do with it… I am now convinced that I am just the innocent victim of her culinary (strudel, biscotti, soufflés, lemon pie, etc.) experiments.

But I am bored she said… I need to do something… Well woman, you could milk the cows or saw some wood…

“I didn’t mean to gain weight, it just happened by snackcident.”

I also believe that this phenomenon is part of a vast conspiracy engineered by the likes of Oprah and Marie Osmond. Fat them up, they snickered… we will reap the benefits through our slick advertising. Regardless of the circumstances, weight loss always sells…

Realistically though, I’m not overweight, I’m just six inches too short. Right? But still, I might have to go on a diet… diet, however is a four-letter word and I am strongly averse to vulgarity. So, I will have to think of something else…

If you insist on dieting, a word of caution: chocolate and some other innocent looking offerings make your clothes shrink. Don’t ever say that I did not warn you about this.

Deep inside though, I know what the real cause of my problem is: I have not played pétanque for at least 2 months. My weight gain is a subtle reminder that I absolutely need to get back to it. My mind wants it, my body demands it… what’s holding up the parade?

The governor has got to give us the green light, I guess… He has to release the caged animals, and the minute he does, we will all flock to the field like dung beetles to horse manure. In retrospect, I hold him responsible for my weight gain…

If nothing happens by the end of the month, I will probably join other heavily armed protesters demanding the liberation of all the pétanque fields. Keep in mind that Pétanque (like nail salons) is an essential activity necessary for the wellbeing of the American people.

We will sue if we must (I hope that you are onboard), for the right to peacefully practice our cult .


Kids are rascals

I take my kids everywhere, but they always find their way back home. Robert Orben

I am aware that due to the “Shelter in place” policy, some people are getting bored out of their minds. Fortunately, there is a sure-fire antidote to remedy this problem. And best of all, it is readily available to all.

If you are wallowing in such a miserable state, the cure is staring you in the face. To eradicate this mind-numbing boredom, just propose to friends or family to shelter their 5-year-old kid for a week.  Half a dozen kids will be dropped at your front door thirty seconds after you have made this offer.

A kid this age needs constant entertainment and I guarantee that for the duration of his/her stay you won’t be bored a single minute. And as a bonus, you will also sleep like a log. At the end of the day, you will be so exhausted that you will collapse on your bed and fall asleep instantly. Absolutely no medication needed.

To keep the kid in fighting shape, you will also need to exercise him. You might discover that you are not as fit as you thought you were. The kid will still be darting right and left while you will be panting on a bench…

You might have dealt professionally with a full-grown diva before, but this experience won’t prepare you for dealing with a miniature prima donna. You will need to be extremely flexible and creative to accommodate his wishes.

Divas throw occasional tantrums, but kids having more energy, are likely to regale you with at least one tantrum a day. And the only way to deal with such “garnements” is to bribe them into submission.

Kids are also known in French as “touche-à-tout” (touch everything) and you will have to secure every valuable item (including your stash of weed) in your house before their scheduled blitz.

Since their minds are not yet cluttered with a lot of conservative junk, kids have elephants’ memory. They remember everything they hear (even what they are not supposed to catch). So, when you are tempted to let go with a salvo of colorful expletives,  exercise great caution over what comes out of your mouth.

I hate to say it…

But kids are also lovable… especially at bedtime.
As a friend of mine once said: “the only reason you don’t strangle them all is that are so damn lovable.”

And they are cuddlers! When you are ready to throw them in a dungeon, they cuddle! The nerves of those rascals!
Who in hell can resist a cuddle? Not me.  I am too much of a soft touch.