As a little kid, my memory for phone numbers was phenomenal. I knew all of my parents friend's numbers by heart. My father, who is lousy at things like that, used to say "can I please have Mr. Green's number?" or "what's Mr. Bernstein's number, I forget." My mother utilized my memory in a similar fashion.
All that changed a little over four years ago. See, that's when I got my first cell phone. So began the era of speed-dial and voice recognition dialing, and ended the era of memorizing phone numbers.
And so, slowly the brain cells involved in phone number memorization have shriveled up and died. In truth, I never missed them. Till today.
It was very sudden, very tragic. Out of the blue, my phone, which has been pretty sick for a while, breathed it's last. Picture it. Me, SD, sitting there phone-less. I hope you're shuddering at the thought.
I wasn't completely unprepared, I did have an old phone, which I was actually able to get working pretty quickly. But as I turned it on, the grim reality hit me.
I lost everything. Saved texts, pictures, and most importantly...500 contacts! I wanted to call my friend and vent about it, but I realized that I don't even know my closest friend's phone numbers.
So I'm seeing the flip side of our technological goodness. I mentioned my devastating loss to an older woman at work, and she was dumbfounded. "You mean you don't have a paper address book where you write people's numbers in?"
A week ago, I would have laughed at her. I would have told her that it's the new world, the new generation. I would have told her that we do things differently in this century. But now I get it. Technology isn't all good.
Two important notices: to those who know me, and know my cell phone number, please gimme a call or a text. I don't have your number anymore.
And, ve'hameivin yavin, Chava Yitty will be having a levaya as soon as I check if the sprint store can do an autopsy and glean some info from her. ;-)