Lady Debby and I recently walked into a phone store because she needed a new cell phone. What was wrong with her current cell phone? It was old. Two years old, to be precise. In technological years, that’s the equivalent of a paleontologist unearthing a three-billion-year-old plereioiocdusaurus jawbone.

The first thing I noticed when I began looking at the various phone options is all of the features built into them that have absolutely nothing to do with making phone calls. Call me a purist, but if you need a phone, buy a phone. If you need a camera, buy a camera. If you need a nose hair trimmer, buy a nose hair trimmer…(it’s only a matter of time).

So I’m looking at all of the different phones and a salesman approaches me. Now if you’re in sales, please don’t take this personally, but if I ever enter your store, leave me the heck alone. If I want to tap into your vast knowledge, I’ll track you down. I could only assume this guy was in the baby-step years of his sales career, because he actually approached me. A well-seasoned salesman will take one look at my size and my demeanor, then quickly turn and head for easier prey.

Anyway, he approaches me and says, “Hi. If you’re looking for a phone, you came to the right place.” He follows that up with a chuckle. Normally, my glares shoot shards of glass. But I felt sorry for the guy. He was wearing a shirt and tie that had no business being in the same room together, let alone occupying the same torso. So I set my glare on ice pellets. He felt the chill, but kept pressing. “So what features are you looking for?”

“What I could really use right now is a phone with a Taser feature.”

I don’t know how phone usage is in your house, but in mine, the monthly-allotted minutes (per our family plan) are typically consumed as follows. Picture a pie chart. The enormous slice of minutes belong to my daughter. The almost, but not quite so enormous, slice represents my son’s phone minutes. Lady Debby is not too far behind with her own generous slice. And then if you zoom in close enough…closer…you’ll see this micro-thin slice of pie representing my minute.

If Lady Debby had a suspicious bone in her body, it wouldn’t take much for her to solve the mystery of who her husband has been discretely communicating with via his cell phone. All she has to do is call (using her prehistoric cell phone) the lone phone number that appears on my phone statement, and within five seconds she will get a busy signal. Case closed.

Back in the dark ages, when you couldn’t talk to someone face-to-face, you would pick up the phone and call them. If you couldn’t hear their voice in person, the next best thing was hearing their voice via a phone line. Nowadays, if you can’t talk to someone face-to-face, you pick up your phone and…text them.

Last year, Lady Debby and I vacationed in the United Kingdom. We were in a grocery store in a small town in Scotland called Fort William. Nature decided to give me a call, so I decided to answer it. I entered the men’s restroom, approached urinal #1, and proceeded to carry out my objective. A guy approached urinal #2 and proceeded to multi-task, using one hand to steer, and the other hand to compose a text message on his cell.

Having no compunction to cross territorial boundaries, I have no guess as to what he was texting, but unless it was “my luv. I hav 15 secnds 2 live. Luv U 4ever. by” I will 4evr wndr y he cudnt w8 til he mt’d hs bladr.

My daughter has a boyfriend. Last week they celebrated their 2.8-year anniversary. Over the course of their romance, they have used their cell phones to make a total of 0 calls to each other. However, they text each other 8,325 times a day. When he pulls into the driveway to pick her up, what do you think he does?

A. Gets out of the car and walks up to the front door to get her.
B. Picks up his cell phone and calls her to let her know he’s in the driveway.
C. Texts her.
D. Why even read D when C is the obvious answer?

I came home one day and she was furiously pounding out a text message on her cell. “Hi, sweetheart. Everything okay?” “Not now, dad. Can’t you see I’m having an argument with my boyfriend?”

I feel like I am now reduced to filler time with my kids. My son will send his girlfriend or one of his friends a text message and then he’ll start talking to me about something, and I’m thinking, “This is great. My son actually wants to talk to me. Maybe the light finally came on and he realizes he doesn’t have all of the answers.”

So I’m about ready to untap unfiltered non-pasteurized wisdom when his cell starts chiming. He gives me the “I just put you on pause” gesture while he checks his incoming message. “I gotta go dad. A bunch of us are going bowling.” And he’s gone before I can say, “I’ll go bowling with you.” Maybe he’d consider it if I sent him a text.

Well, my wife and I walked out of the phone store empty handed. Why? Lady Debby is cheap. She got her current (and completely obsolete) phone free when we first signed up for service. The benchmark has been set. “You want to get a bite to eat?” she asked. I gave her a head nod. “Where?” she pressed. I followed up with a shoulder shrug as I headed towards the men’s restroom. “I’ll give it some thought and text you.”

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Check out L. Dustin Twede’s website at www.ldustintwede.com. He can be reached at ddtwede@yahoo.com.