I’ve kept my blogging hat on all across the United States and done it easily, even in the middle of hard Nevada desert at the Burning Man Festival, where WiFi was as weak as a cuppa American coffee.
I was able to stay in communication with my audience on my trusty iPhone. Now, I’m somewhat hamstrung because I know not where my device is. It could be in the seat pocket of a United Airlines aircraft; it could be in the pocket of a United Airlines flight attendant or cabin cleaner. I’ve called to it on mobile.me and it hasn’t told me where in the wide world it is. I sorely miss it.
Oh for complete detachment from such material pleasures. Even partial detachment would do.
I love my phone. I’m only human.