Ten Days without a Cell Phone

In a somewhat serendipitous parallel universe of self-initiated vice avoidance akin to Mr. Colin Pearson's situationally-legendary ten day anti-bender, I've been without my good ol' trusty cellular telephone for the last ten days. It started when I left the charger in the Downtown Chicago Hampton Inn on about May 24th or something like that. I then went with the Table Shox posse down to Cincinnati where we made the trade with Mark Herrmann, then we went to the Indy 500 for some well-earned fun. My phone was dead the whole time and it didn't really matter, but on my way back to Montreal from Indy, via the Hampton Inn in Chicago, I found out that the Hampton Inn did infact not possess my trusty little phone charger aka my contact to the world of one red paperclip. It probably fell out of my backpack at a gas station when I switched out my shoes for flip-flops for all I know - I really don't know where I left it really, I just felt like tagging the Hampton Inn with the responsibility of keeping a watchful eye on my charger. That's my motto, when in doubt, blame the Hampton Inn. Well, one of my mottos, anyhow.
I went to a store yesterday to buy a new charger and they quoted me $50 for a new one. Now, $50 is the kind of cash that you'll drop at the bar without blinking, but on a little cord for a phone? uh uh. Nope. I'm not having any of that. Sure, this is really nothing to talk about, and it's not like I'm complaining, but when your public fate and reputation rests upon the ability to communicate with potential traders, it's somewhat of a big deal. I guess.

Maybe I forgot it in Chicago by accident, and maybe the housekeepers "misplaced" it by accident or maybe I'm just too lazy to admit that I'm too lazy to buy a new charger. It doesn't really matter - I honestly think that I needed a little breather for what promises to be a strong finish to this project. Translation: potentially absolutely overwhelming amount of cell phone communication plus early morning radio interviews if/when I actually trade up to the house.

Now I love talking to people about really anything at all and the radio interviews are nothing short of an absolute riot - even the calls I get from radio staions in Quebec who call me up at 4am when I'm on the West Coast totally oblivious to the fact that it's the middle of the night and expect me to be perky on the radio, in French. Once again, no complaints, they're fun too. But if I can let you in on a little secret, it's kind of nice not to have a cell phone. But let's just keep that our secret - between you and me.

I guarantee my dad cringes when he reads this. If my phone wasn't juiceless I'd call him up and read everything up to here verbatim. I guarantee this is what he'd say: "Hey big guy, just go out and buy yourself a new charger. You need your phone. It's your business. Your livelihood. Your honor." Well, I probably over-did it on the honor part, and he's Canadian so it'd be spelled honour anyhow, but that's my dad for ya. My dad loves his new bluetooth headset-equipped Motorola RAZR. His reaction is invariably a mixture of confusion/personal offense when he can't reach someone on their cell: "What is it with mom? She never takes her cell phone with her anywhere?" with his head hung low and one hand in the air as a show of utter disbelief. And while I'm on this tangent of giving my dad the well-earned gears, what is it with middle-aged men and those bluetooth earpiece things? Always in public. Always loud. Always middle-aged. Always a man. I told Dom that if she ever turns into a middle-aged man and she gets into any sort of that nonsense I'm packing my bags. She looked at me with a blank expression on her face, then blinked. Twice.

Anyhow, I have no idea what this has to do with one red paperclip or my quest to trade up to a house, this is just a bit of a Sunday evening ramble. My dad is a great guy, I'm just having a little fun here. So, if you tried to call me at 310-689-8867 or 514-833-3980 since May 24th-ish and I didn't pick up, that's why. It's not as if I'm screening calls or avoiding you - its just that I'm too lazy to go buy a new charger and way too lazy to do that not-on-the-actual phone message check thingy and double way too lazy to then call you back. I'm sure this'll be the sort of thing that just sorts itself out, one way or another.

Hey, here's a thought: If you have a wall-charger for a Samsung X426 I'll trade you one red paperclip for it! Infact, if you have a car charger as well, I'll throw in another red paperclip.

Or, I'll just go buy one. Tomorrow.

Currently set on battery-out-of-the-phone - Kyle

**UPDATE**: Bruno read this and scored me a car charger...that he just happened to have laying around the house. And just happened to fit my phone. So that ruled.