Call me crazy, but I think I'm in love.
You would think it couldn't happen at my age, but I'm enamored with a piece of technology. It's my Bluetooth headset.
For someone who still throws her arm across an unsuspecting passenger when I brake suddenly, my adapting to something new so quickly has been surprising. Honestly, I'm not too comfortable with change unless it's rattling around in my coin purse.
But in some ways, I've sort of been forced into it. With the new hands-free cell phone law in our state, the idea is to drive with 10 fingers gripping the steering wheel instead of just five. For a while I used an old plug-in earpiece for my even-older cell phone, but the cord was always getting hung up in my latte.
As luck would have it, Bill and I were loitering around Costco the other day, filling up on our noon meal when I realized we were going to leave the store for less than $100. So, between bites of fiery-hot chicken wings and thimbles of ice cream, we strolled to the cell phone kiosk.
In less time than it takes to snag a food sample off a tray, we were headed out the door with a new Bluetooth hands-free headset and a shiny red cell phone. Smiling employees waved their good-byes.
Then, with my teen granddaughter's help -- the five year-old was too busy on the computer — the slider cell was paired with my wireless earpiece and featured a hip new ringtone. When Sheryl Crow shouts, "I'm gonna soak up the sun ..." I know it's for me.
However, as much as I love the convenience for driving — just a tap on the headset to answer a call — I'm not planning to use this new gizmo in public. Instead, I'll still answer my cell phone in the traditional way, especially after a woman in the grocery store looked straight at me and said, "I love you."
Nowadays, as my friend Jeanne, who remembers party lines, big black telephones and rotary dials, says, "You can't tell if people are crazy, or just on their cell phones."
I'd say they're like me — crazy in love with the conveniences we're blessed with in this 21st century. But even though I'm captivated with all these new contraptions, I still hold on to a few old fashioned things, such as my Bible.
In my early morning "quiet time," I enjoy the feel of pages that rustle, margins where I can note inspiration, answers to prayer, and a verse that says something special to me. I'm absolutely in love with these moments to pray and meditate in the stillness.
Nearby, my cell phone sits with Sheryl's voice silenced. Instead of hearing my new ringtone, at that early morning hour "I'm gonna soak up the Son."
That's something I don't care to change.