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There’s certainly no doubt that life with all its little vicissitudes, might be an altogether smoother running exercise if phone callers would only leave their name at decipherable speed, spell out anything more complicated than Smith and leave a considerate pause whilst you jot.

However, I usually find whilst am still furrow-browed over the name – is that their’s or their company’s? – they’re hitting me hard and at speed with the vast variety of numbers on which I can call them back, if only I could write them down in time.

And of course that’s just landlines, mobiles are a different ball game altogether. And yes, I hear you. I know my iphone can do more clever things in a minute than I can do in an hour. I know it knows who called last, has stored their message somewhere and probably even, to pass the time, given them their own special little ring-tone so I’ll know who they are if they call again. Does this help me – does it heck!

This world’s split into two sorts. Those who run headlong into the arms of technology with little moans of pleasure, embracing each new innovation with fevered fervor – let’s call them the Cans. And there are those who don’t – let’s label them the Cannots.

Cans have their mobile or blackberry no less than 2 inches away from their right hand at any given moment, night or day. They are always poised and quivering, alert to the next beep, burp or ping signifying an email, a text, a reminder and yes, even possibly a phone call. They will, when it sounds, respond instantly – think Gary Cooper, High Noon.

Cannots (and I’m guessing you’ve sussed where I am on this) never really expect their phone to go off in the first place and tend initially to think that attractive little tune they’re hearing is something on the radio. This leads to a short time lapse before they make a belated lunge for their handbag or briefcase. Unfortunately by the time they’ve located the wretchedly teeny weeny object, wedged securely between make-up bag and cheque book and tangled up in spare pair of tights, they’ll of course have missed the call. Should they then by some miracle be able to locate any message left, it will have almost certainly have been left by someone apparently speaking in tongues and at great speed. Which rather brings me back to where I started.

So just a short appeal on behalf of the Cannots. Remember we’re different – not better, not worse, just different. And if you’re a Can and you come across a hot, flustered and frustrated Cannot be gentle not patronising, kind, not cruel and for pity’s sake SHOW ME WHICH RUDDY BUTTON TO PRESS!

~end ~