Don't Believe I'da Told That

(title borrowed from Lewis Grizzard. More about that later.)

As I've mentioned before, I love the Post Office! Especially since they put in machines that let me address and print out postage on a label for packages when the PO isn't even open.

On Monday night I went to the Post Office to mail a package to younger daughter, who lives in LA. I put the package on the scale and entered her zip code into the computer. The computer said something along the lines of: that zip code does not exist.

Great. At home I had just entered the address into the address book feature of my iPhone and assumed I had the correct one. What to do? Oh, that's right. My address book is ALSO my phone!!!

I called yd, asked her for her correct zip code, entered it into the computer as we talked about other things, and then wrote the rest of the address on the label.

We were still talking when I finally gathered everything up to leave, but ......where was my phone???

OMG! How can I lose my phone when I have been standing in the same place for the past five minutes??? I rustled through my purse, checked the floor, and got more and more frustrated and puzzled. I kept saying to yd that I just couldn't understand how this had happened.

Yd: You can't find your phone?

Me: Yes, I can't find it and I just had it out in order to correct your zip code.

Yd: Uh, what are you talking to me on?

Oh, dear.

Now I understand what my brain was doing; the phone feature and the address book feature were two distinct and different features to me. My previous phone was just a .....phone. I made and received phone calls on it. No camera, no Internet, no address book, no e-mails, just phone calls.

My poor old brain has not adjusted to new technology.

At dinner last night, I told this story to dh. He stared at me for the longest time, and then said, I don't think I would have told you that story.

Well, I thought a significant other was the one person you could tell anything to (maybe not about the amount of stash you have, or the price of a pair of shoes). But really, anything.

Apparently not.

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So here's the Lewis Grizzard portion of the post. I met him ages ago at a book signing at a K-Mart of all places. I hadn't known that K-Mart sold books, and neither had anyone else apparently. Only I and two or three other people showed up. So we had a chance to chat, which was a treat, and I bought a book or two and a tape. Remember tapes?

The tape was titled Don't Believe I'da Told That. And here is one of the stories (the cleanest, I think) that was on the tape. Paraphrased, because it's been a long time:

Two men were sitting in the bleachers waiting for the start of a football game. They were drinking beer, chatting. One noticed a male dog, sitting down on the field, licking himself. The man watched for a moment and then said to his friend: I wish I could do that.

The friend looked at the dog and then replied: That dog would B..i..t..e.

The End