Kids are not bringing their cells to our favorite corner of the world. Nor their ipods. No text zone — I called it. Told hubby too. Just fishing and reading and bocce and birdwatching; then swimming, eating, line dancing, kayaking and foursquare. Lots and lots of foursquare.
But no texting, tweeting, photographing the moment-by-moment sunsets for friends on Facebook. None. And I mean it.
And me neither. While years past it hasn’t been a problem, or an issue because 1) I didn’t have a laptop and 2) didn’t know how to text and 3) couldn’t receive emails on my phone and 4) had no income generating clients desperate to be in touch for an emergency press release on a new menu item for brunch. But I’m a working woman now, with a popular set of clients who I love, and a few I sort of like. But I stayed strong: not gonna happen. They can’t reach me for 7 days.
Perhaps bad for business, but good for the fam.
It’s all staying home. No buzzing, vibrating, or excessive tap-tap-tapping of obsessive texting. And no shrilling ring tones, except the moaning and groaning and whining from the teenagers when they realize I’m serious, which is in about 90 minutes…
Wish me luck.