"My son, Isaac, called me on that danged telephone contraption today," my great Grandfather said. "Why can't he just come over here if he wants to talk with me? It's only three towns away. Instead he expects me to hold that thing up to my ear like it's natural or something."
Thus was the lament of my Great Grandpa Blackmer as he struggled with the changing times. I too struggle with every text message and/or tweet from my younger generation hip, jiving sons. "Why can't you just call me?" I ask. It's a lot easier than this sucky texting thing.
