Somewhere on the 6th floor of the NYC Googleplex, in the marker tray of a whiteboard, sits a silent Blackberry Pearl plugged into a wall.
I read somewhere that for some Europeans the loss of a phone is considered to be the loss of one’s network, of one’s social circle, an occasion for great angst and loathing.
Me? Happy as can be. Off I go to AT&T tomorrow to get me one of the big boy sized blackberries. The old one, which lost the latch to its battery cover, was ratty with scotch tape and is now dead to me.
Until then, I am a landline kind of guy.