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TO ME, a tele-
That's why I get tickled when I see these stories on the 6 o'clock news about people "losing their identities" when their cellphones get stolen.
First of all, to me, losing one's identity means either not knowing who you are or turning into someone else. I am quite confident that I would neither forget who I am or turn into someone else if my cellphone were stolen.
Unlike some people, my cellphone is not directly wired to my brain. If someone swiped it, I would not need the computer chip inside to remember who I am.
Yes, I do have a cellphone. I know I am just a poor, ignorant country boy trying to make it in the cold, cruel world, but I do live in the 21st century (that's the cool thing to say).
And right here I must confess that I do use that phone for something other than communication. Since my car clock bit the dust, I use the phone to tell time when driving. Further, I used it one day last week to kill a wasp that got into my vehicle. That cellphone flattened him pretty good.
I don't have a smart phone; my cellphone is pretty dumb. In fact, it is about one step up from a rotary dial phone.
I usually keep my cellphone in my car, right there in plain sight. Now
"He keeps his cellphone in plain sight in his car! Somebody will steal it and get all his personal information! They'll then use that information to make big purchases and he'll wind up broke."
First of all, my cellphone is so antiquated that a thief would laugh when he saw it. Second, my car is twice as old as my cellphone, so only somebody stealing for a junkyard would even give it a second thought.
Third, the only sensitive personal information a thief would find on my cellphone would be the telephone numbers of my three favorite gourmet dining establishments--Baby Jim's Snack Bar in Culpeper, the Madison Tastee-Freez and the Snack Shack in Spotsylvania.
True, a thief could call any of the three fast-food restaurants and order lunch, but he would still have to pay in cash when he got there. I don't have a charge account at any of those places.
Hold on! My cellphone does contain the numbers of all three of my children, but if some thief called them and claimed to be me, they would instantly know that it was not my voice and reply, "You're not my daddy! You're a bad man!"
Yes, folks, I'm pretty well protected. My cellphone is about as ignorant as I am. I can leave it in plain sight in my car and never worry. To most thieves, that device is about as obsolete as an Indian smoke signal.
Still, it does tell time better than my car and it is made solidly enough to squish a wasp up against the inside of the windshield. You couldn't do either with a smoke signal.
And it does allow me to call Baby Jim's and have a steak sandwich (on plain bread with mayonnaise and onions) ready when I arrive.
Oops! I gave out too much personal information. Now the world knows what I order at Baby Jim's. Why someone may steal my phone, call and order a steak sandwich and claim to be me.
Oh, well, the caller will still have to pay when he gets there. And unless the guy looks like Tom Cruise, the ladies at Baby Jim's will know that it is not me.
Or is it Gabby Hayes with whom they confuse me?
Now Gabby always preferred smoke signals to cellphones.
Dag nab it, gol darn it!