I’m a contrarian, that’s for certain.
As houses have grown bigger in size, I’ve started believing that smaller is sweeter.
When governments promise lower taxes I make the case for a touch higher.
And as cellphones shrink in size I start yearning for the earlier models that weighed at least fourteen pounds.
["Hey, it's me. How'd I do on that last race?"]
About the phones, I can explain.
Years ago, when clunky car phones came into fashion and people started chatting while driving, a friend of mine - not to be out done - duct-taped a child’s plastic phone set to the dash of his car. When stopped at a red light he would roll down his window and pretend to make a call.
Twice he got looks from people that, had I had a video camera rolling, would have won us big bucks on America’s Funniest Videos.
My wife took out her new cellphone this morning at The Red Roaster - a tiny one, one she is afraid to lose - and I remarked that I’m in the process of looking for a new one too.
“Fourteen pounds. One that wraps around your face. Just try to lose it,” I said.
You know the kind I mean?
I’d carry it to The Roaster every day to take really important calls. I’d even pretend to dial out, talk to my bookie.
Contrarians need to have fun too, ya know.
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Bits and Pieces PT 2 right here.
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