julie warshaw
I have every single cell phone I’ve ever had. All of them. I’ve never lost one. Save the one that was sacrificed when I was thrown into Teddy’s pool at a corresponding party, every one of them works. It’s quite a history of technology. There are few other things which have evolved so significantly over such a short period of time. My car from eight years ago blends perfectly into the parking lot. Were I to use an eight year old cell phone, tourists would take pictures. Traffic would screech to a halt. Satellites would fall from the sky. But laugh it up. My inability to let go of still-working technology will eventually translate into a cellular wing of the Smithsonian named for me. And as a gracious, reclusive, octogenarian, I will decline the invite to its debut; sending instead a baffling video of something called Nyan Cat. And who will be laughing then, huh? (Still you.)
julie warshaw 