WooHoo! Here it is!

Well, well, look who finally showed up. No, it's not the original
message, but his poorer country cousin. You see, the original
explained how I can't call from in the house, because our tin-can-
and-twine phone system only gets reception in certain areas. We
must be the people that the "Can you hear me now?" ad campaign
was designed for.

I don't know for sure when Mr. Audio appeared, but the time stamp
is the time I called it in. I didn't check right away, because I had to
go to Wal-mart and deposit what was left of my summer paychecks.
When I got back around 1:30 pm, there he was, like the telephone
man waiting in the driveway because you left after he didn't show up
during the 4-hour time slot he promised.

Rebecca left me a comment on how she put sound on her blog.
All Hail Rebecca, Emperor of Beclakia! Careful, Rebecca, you
are scaring the freaks. Now it was right neighborly for her to offer
to assist the technologically challenged. I consulted with the resident
10-year-old computer guru who I keep on retainer, and he spouted
out a bunch of mumbo-jumbo about why Bec's method wouldn't
work for me. It went a little something like this: I don't have the thingy
I need to convert a file to mp3. My computer would save it as a wav
file, and I would have to buy something to change it, and "those things
are not exactly cheap." Then he said that since I do not have my own
server, I would have to leave my computer continuously online for
anyone else to be able to hear the audio file. Tomorrow I am going
to check with the hospital to see if they sent me home with the wrong
baby.

Now, for all I know, this is something the kid made up to mess with
me. It might be something like storks bringing babies and leaving
them under cabbage leaves. I would not know the difference. I can
barely use the cell phone. He has to show me how to get my voice
mail. Every time. I don't even like that phone. Why do you need a
phone that takes pictures? Won't a camera do that just as well? And
it is too small. I always drop it and the battery thing pops out. When
I try to hold it and talk, my fingers hit something on the side that puts
it on speaker or camera or "scrub your kitchen sink" or some such
feature. I want an old-fashioned cell phone, like on Seinfeld back in
1992, when it was as big as a shoe box.

Technology. Can't live with it, can't blog without it.