There was a video on CNN going over the topic of cell phone etiquette, and it ended with the weather guy tossing his phone over his shoulder after it rang. I’m with that guy. I own my cell phone; it does not own me.

I have it on when I am out and about, and not at work or at home.

If I am with friends, I have it off. Or, if there is a real need for someone to get my immediate attention, which would necessarily be a situation involving my children, and blood and/or fire, then I keep it on vibrate.

If I am out and about with my children, the cell phone is off.

I use it when I need it and only then. It is for my convenience. It is there for me. I am not there for it.

When I see my daughter texting during dinner or in church, or having to stop mowing the lawn for ten minutes because she gets a call, then I know that she does not understand this. I would hate to see what would happen to her if she somehow lost that phone. I think she’d dry into a husk and crumble to dust in a matter of a few short seconds.

I think next weekend the kids are all here, I’m going to declare Saturday the zero technology day. We’re going to live like the Amish and have no TV, no computer, no cell phones, no nothing. We’ll cook our food outside on the fire, and when it gets dark, we’ll sit in the dark. Maybe light a candle. We’ll talk, and we’ll maybe sing songs, and we’ll maybe play a game or read a story. Or the Bible.

This will be therapeutic for us all.

Completely true.

I went to Radio Shack yesterday with my wife on a quick stop to get two battery holders for a project I was working on (something to light up the entryway closet when the door opens so you can actually see what shoes are there and pick the right ones).

Total for two battery holders: $1.98. Hurray.

Then as he's ringing me up, the guy asks what cell phone plan we're on.

Sprint.

"Well, then, would you like to see what new phones we have?"

Ruh-roh.

Being a sucker, I said yes, and called my wife over to see too.

"Well, we are eligible for an upgrade now, and we said we were going to get new phones," she said, giving me the doe eyes.

Without going into great detail, we got new phones. And an extra one for the kids to share. And an upgrade to the plan. And a couple of new adapter tips. And another item for another project that I remembered I'd needed.

So... one hour later, we had a new total: $215.00

Yikes.

Next weekend, I'm just going to stay home.

I'm not sure if this is just a guy thing, but it's certainly a "me" thing: I can hold diametrically opposed ideas in my head without any trouble.

For example, I can be told on one day that I have to fly out of town next Tuesday, and the next day can be told that I'm supposed to take my kid to some school function next Tuesday, and nine times out of ten, I'll be perfectly good with it until I'm actually out of town and suddenly remembering that I signed up to take my kid somewhere.

My brain usually doesn't connect the dots when it comes to ideas; logical conclusions aren't automatically reached based solely upon the admission of new ideas.

Thoughts, without some specific substrate upon which to roost or some other thought to cling to, will simply float in my mind as a random fact, if it remains at all. Most random facts like this get flushed into the sea of forgetfulness at some point or another. They must have some other thought or fact to stick to in order to remain.

For example, this last Sunday, we were heading out the door for church. I pulled the car out of the garage, and my wife came out the front door with our son.

My wife announced this: "I don't have my keys."

This is an isolated fact, and stirred no particular response within me. Thus, I said nothing, and once she and my son were buckled in, I began to pull out of the driveway.

What my wife was hoping for was for me to connect the dots, and realize that since she didn't have keys, she couldn't lock the door, and therefore I need to lock the door.

Why didn't she just say "You need to lock the door." instead? Maybe that's a girl thing. I don't know.

I managed to pull a fast save by stopping the car and running into the house to get the camera, then noticing that the door wasn't locked, and finally realizing why she told me she didn't have the keys.

There are hundreds of thousands of people out there with a debilitating disease. Maybe your brother, maybe your co-worker, maybe your wife or husband or child is affected.

I'm talking about Dysgeographicatrophy. The Navigational Challenge disease.

Now... in a manner of speaking, I'd be lost without my wife. She provides me grounding and a life compass that I suffer without.

But in a completely literal sense, she'd be lost without me.

She has no sense of direction at all.

She freely admits this; it's no dig.

This fact makes it very, very difficult to help her find her way anywhere.

North, South, East, West, for her these terms are meaningless. Any direction is as good as any other.

Granted, now that she's lived in this part of Portland for a few years now, she knows her way around to a degree. She knows the major streets around our home, and has a few routes mapped out to places she frequents. Like Nordstrom.

But to have her find a new place, on her own, is asking the impossible.

Because of her job, this is sometimes required. She must brave the streets and find her way to places she's never been. Or worse, because of traffic or other complications, sometimes she must choose an alternate route. And Lord help her if she makes a wrong turn.

If I had a nickel for every panicked call I got in the middle of the day...

And the panic usually comes across the same way: her voice reaches a speed and pitch that spiral right out of my hearing range. There's no way to portray this in type. If you've seen the episode of Star Trek entitled "Wink of an Eye", you'll get a good idea of what I'm talking about.

I'll be sitting there at work, happily plugging away at whatever project I'm currently assigned to, when the call comes.

"IgotlostandturneddownthewrongstreetandIdon'tknowwhereIamandcan'tfindthewaybacktothefreewayandIdon'tknowhowtogetbackandIdon'tknowwhatwayI'mgoingandthestreetsdon'tmakesense-"

"Okay, okay, honey. Calm down. Shhhhhh. calm down."

"nkay!" she says.

"Where are you?"

"IDON'TKNOWWHEREIAMICAN'TSEETHESTREETSIGNANDICAN'TSTOPITJUSTKEEPSGOING"

"all right, I'm sorry. Please, calm down!"

Eventually, I can get her to pull over, calm down and then read a street sign.

Then I'll call up Google Earth and figure out a route to get her from where she is to the nearest freeway onramp, and point her in the direction she needs to go.

After a while she got the hang of just calling me at the first sign of trouble.

I became her easy-access in-car navigational service. She called me "Tom Star"

Then, for her last birthday, I thought I'd really fix the problem.

I bought her a GPS navigator with a HUGE screen, traffic reports and voice guidance.

The thing works great. We call it "Wilma" (one of my daughters came up with that, because they are extremely random).

The trouble is, she still calls me when she gets lost. Except now she begins her extremely high-pitched panic call with "WILMATOOKMEAREALLYSTUPIDWAY" before going into the high-speed details of how she's lost.

At least when she does calm down she can now give me her exact latitude and longitude. Makes it much quicker to figure out where she is.

When they have cars that will automatically drive you to your destination, I will relax. Or maybe I should hire her a driver. Hmmm.

Reading Dorky Dad's post about the Alien Hand, and specifically the bit about "Jumping Frenchman From Maine Syndrome" made me think of my wife.

I was telling her about the above mentioned syndrome and she wondered if maybe she had it. I dismissed the notion immediately... but upon second thought, it could be she has a mild form of it.

She has this amazing ability to be startled under the most innocuous circumstances. And when she gets startled, she will jump and/or scream.

I first discovered this fact when we were dating, and I took her to see the movie "Signs". I love creepy movies. I can't get enough of them. I'm not talking about slasher films like "Scream" or "Saw" or any of that. I mean actual horror films, done right.

Okay, so maybe "Signs" isn't a great example of "done right"... but still.

During the film, whenever a startling scene would occur, she'd scream. Not a full-on, lingering wail, but a short blast.

Eventually some girls a couple rows ahead of us got to thinking it was pretty funny, and would laugh every time she'd yelp. She spent the rest of the movie with her face buried in my shoulder.

After we were married and moved into our new house, I found that she'd scream and jump whenever I sneaked up on her. Now, I wasn't doing this intentionally. I don't make a lot of racket when I walk, and she doesn't have the best hearing, so it was easy to do.

For example, she'd be transferring a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer, and I'd come into the laundry room and stand there. Then she'd turn around, see me, and freak out.

Or she'd be coming downstairs just as I am rounding the corner to come up stairs, and she'd shriek upon seeing me.

These startle incidents would usually conclude with her telling me: "I wasn't expecting to see you there!"

"Where were you expecting me to be?" I'd ask in return, genuinely mystified.

After a few years it sort of got on my nerves, the way she'd always freak out every time I happened to startle her.

I could come into the bedroom at night, and she'd scream.

"Hi," I'd say, holding out my hand in greeting. "I'm your husband. I live here too. Nice to meet you."

I've learned since to just make a lot of noise while walking around, to be sure she knows I'm coming.

It doesn't always help though.

Just a few days ago, I was bringing breakfast up while she was showering.

I thought I'd surprise her by bringing her a bite of food while she was still rinsing off.

"Hello!" I said, loudly, as I entered the bathroom. "Breakfast coming!"

"Oh, yummy!" she said back.

Then I opened the shower door.

"AAAAAAA!" she shouted, startled.

"Honey, I just said I was bringing breakfast! You knew I was standing RIGHT THERE!"

"Yeah, but I didn't expect you to open the shower door," she said, sheepishly.

It hasn't gotten better in five years of being together. I guess this is something we're both just going to have to get used to.