Old.

I was having my yearly chat with my dear friend Sarah last night, and she pointed out it's easy to follow my blog because I only post once a semester or so. *Sigh* In an effort to remedy that, she told me to blog my life as it happens, which I think would be depressing because nothing much ever happens. But, I told her, the other day I *did* walk into the Verizon store to see what we can do about our pathetic languishing in telecommunicational purgatory. The answer was not much, and in the process I learned I appear hopelessly aged to anyone under 30.

It started when he asked to see my cell phone, which, I explained to Sarah, has a calculator and not much else.

"Well," protested Peter, "When you got it, you were all happy it had a color display...."

The man has a knack for cutting off an argument with the facts.

Anyway, upon seeing my phone, the hip young thang behind the counter decided he had to talk v-e-r-y slowly and deliberately so that I could understand him. If I wanted to ditch my landline and maintain internet connectivity, I would need to tether a smart phone to my computer.

At that point, he had no clue that I was being very restrained in not asking him to just tell me the bottom line. He patiently and painstakingly explained I needed to download an app to be able to connect my computer through my phone.

"An app....." he looked hesitatingly at me. "....A special...application. Like...a little program that you put on your phone to....do stuff."

Never mind. I'll just take my senile self down the street to the Mac store. Yeah. I bet they can hook me up!