If only my mother could see me now, she would laugh at the new "necessities" of life!

       Mom was a simple person.  In her book, cheaper was better.  I remember being humiliated when, in Kmart, she loudly proclaimed, "That's too expensive!  I'll never by that here."

     She would be proud that I buy the generic brand of bottled water, not that expensive blue stuff with the fancy squirty lid.  Sam swears it tastes better, but I can't tell the difference between Aqua Blue and tap water. 

     Neither can I distinguish between cubic zirconia and diamonds.  I, too am a simple girl.  I carry a cell phone that doesn't take pictures, although I have learned how to send text messages.  

      I  carry a regular old map in my car, although I'm still prone to getting lost.  Sam loves his GPS.  I don't see how a tiny little electronic interactive map of 2" X 1" is better than my paper map.  Sure, there's a cursor that shows how one's journey is progressing, but, electronic or not, it still doesn't guide me to my destination.  I would rather go back to the old days and hire Sakajawea to take me there.  Or build mapquest into my dashboard with a voice that says, "No, you turned left.   Turn here.  Now look to your right, and you'll see the elusive building you are seeking.  There, that wasn't so scary, was it?"

        Computers really could say some lovely things to enhance our self esteem.  They play start-up music when they begin working with us.  They tell us when we're out of ink.  I want one that says, "You are so sexy!  Wait until your husband gets a look at you tonight."  Computers actually do a few things to engage our emotions and relationships. There's e-mail, IM, and all those online chat rooms for every category under the sun.
     We spend more time sending e-mails than talking on the phone, and suddenly, writing skills are of paramount importance.  For awhile, the telephone threatened to displace the fondly written word.  Now, we spend precious time scrutinizing our outgoing messages, knowledgeable that one ambiguous nuance could start a rumor or twist a relationship. 
      Ahhh, yes, if Mom could see me now.  We used to carefully time our long-distance phone calls for Saturdays, when the rates went down.  Mom considered buying a CB radio so that we could span the distance from Texas to Pennsylvania and chat into the wee hours.  How I miss her!  I can imagine zipping her e-mail several times a day as my life unfolds. 

     If she were still alive, I know what she would say.  "Just send me $10 for shipping, and I'll send you all the bottles you want of our well water.  Better yet, I'll send it in mason jars.  There's no sweeter water in the world.  I wouldn't pay a quarter for that stuff they sell at K-mart."