So there I was with no functional cell phone and Mrs. Mack505 due at the airport in an hour. I was ANGRY, and a bit afraid. I was about to fail at a simple promise to my wife. Simplicity had suddenly turned ridiculously complex.
A brief pause is worthy here. In the days before Uber and cell phone lots, people still got picked up at the airport. I could park in short term parking and meet her at baggage claim. I could cruise in circles until she appeared at the curb. (Ever been to Boston Logan International? While possible this would be torture.) I could at least call her cell from a landline and leave a voicemail explaining the problem.
I could also use my daughter’s iPhone! Problem solved with a simple text which the Mrs. would get as soon as she landed.
Which brings me back to my phone saga. It took two more phone calls and a trip to Walmart (I swallowed my pride. . .), but I finally have a working burner. It’s a simple flip phone which makes calls and can text. That’s it. I had something similar in 2002. I feel like I should be making drug deals, ordering mob hits, or fleeing from Jason Bourne with it.
It’s been powered up for almost 24 hours and the battery indicator hasn’t moved from full. Stay tuned. . .
Notes from Mosquito Hill 