Why 3K

So Ann says, “I went over my minutes last month.” You what? “I went over my minutes. Last month.” Really? How many minutes do you get? “Three-thousand.” After I wiped away the coffee that shot out my nose, I cleaned off the laptop and started doing the math. That’s a lot of minutes. It’s fifty hours, or if you prefer, two days and two hours. It’s a week at work these days —and seven nights worth of sleep. It’s a hundred episodes of Thirty Minute Meals.
I don’t think anyone has ever described me as “chatty,” especially not in regard to the phone. My calls are monosyllabic affairs of cryptic guy-speak: “Yeah. Uh-huh. Maybe. You got that right.” But Ann is obviously another story. She loves to talk and people love to talk to her. Sure, some of it is work, but mostly it’s what she does best, being a good friend to the people she cares about.

Maybe I can give her some of my minutes.

All Thumbs


Albany County D.A. David Soares showed off a new system last night for reporting crimes via text message. David Soares has obviously never seen me text. Here’s me texting for help:


Ten minutes later, the alleged perpetrator would be half way to Schenectady. And since it’s likely my phone is set wrong, “I am being robbed” will come out as “g bo cfdhmi snffdf.” I hope they have a cryptographer down there. Hey, I’m fairly tech savvy, but there’s something about those big clumsy thumbs on that tiny little keypad that doesn’t work for me. For now I’ll just dial 911.