I do miss, already, those days of quietly riding the bus with my hard copy novel and/or collection of short stories. These days the invasive iPhone has taken over my existence 24/7. I have to withhold the iPhone's unrelenting desire to captivate my attention. It's a good thing that Joyce Carol Oates is a better writer than Steve Jobs. In a few years, there will be commercials betwixt text messages--just you wait sistuh. iPhone anonymous here I come.
And don't you think it's adorable that when you actually call Verizon for assistance, the young individual at the end of the customer service line has to look up her computerized charts to solve your inability to connect to Internet in Camden? Then, of course, you have totally ruined your evening by frustratingly trying to reconnect to the George Orwell universe you initally wanted to ignore.