Texting stumps smart phone

Logic is in the eye of the logician.


– Gloria Steinem


Wife calls me at work. I can hear her shaking papers in the background. It’s the family phone bill, I am told.

“What have you been doing on your phone?” she asks with mild irritation.

“Talking to you, Honey­bunch,” I answer smoothly. “That’s pretty much why I carry it with me day and night.”

I knew it was a waste of time to ask her why she was asking because I assumed she was about to tell me.

Which she did.

“I just got our bill,” she said, “and it’s really, really high this month.”

“Well,” I said, “it’s a smartphone. Maybe it’s curing cancer. Or networking with other smartphones to solve world hunger. Maybe it’s making robo calls to ask people to take polls that aren’t really polls. Maybe ...”

“No,” she said, still irritated. “I think it’s your texting. It looks like that’s where it went up.”

“I don’t think I’ve texted any more this month than last month,” I answered. “Better call the phone company and let them explain it.”

“Oh, I will,” she said.

Oh, she did.

And she found out that somehow, somewhere, someone at the phone service company had switched my cellphone account last month with my son’s account.

He has unlimited texting, which for most teenagers is pretty much like unlimited talking.

My account, on the other hand, has a more modest texting limit.

She called to triumphantly inform me that the phone company had corrected the error.

“So I’m not in trouble?” I asked, getting to the most important point.

“Not this time,” she answered coolly.

A rare thing.

And a reminder to check your phone bills carefully if you don’t have a household auditor.


YOUR MAIL: My baseball buddy Jimmy Melton and Cheryl have sent me a really nice postcard from Chicago showing Wrigley Field.

“We’re going to see the Cubs tomorrow and the White Sox on Friday!” he writes. “Hope to see you at a GreenJackets game.”


TODAY’S JOKE: Everett Fernandez shares this one:

A boy was looking at the red, ripe tomatoes growing in the farmer’s garden.

“I’ll give you my two pennies for that tomato,” said the boy, pointing to a beautiful, large, ripe fruit hanging on the vine.

“No,” said the farmer, “I get a dime for a tomato like that one.”

The small boy pointed to a smaller green one, “Will you take two pennies for that one?”

“Yes,” replied the farmer, “I’ll give you that one for 2 cents.”

“OK,” said the lad, sealing the deal by putting the coins in the farmer’s hand, “I’ll pick it up in about a week.”



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