Monday, January 23, 2012


Welcome 2012



            It’s nearing the end of the month, and I’m guessing you’re beginning to give

up on your New Year’s Resolutions.  Whatever they may be.  For myself, I don’t

 bother making then anymore.  Who needs the guilt?
Confessions are so much more fun than resolutions, so I have a confession to pass on.  Actually, this confession is a year old, but it has taken me a while to be able to acknowledge that I am really this stupid.  And stupidity is something I greatly fear.  That’s not the confession, but doing stupid things on a fairly regular basis makes me fear it as a permanent state of being for me.  Here’s my 2011 really dumb thing.
            In about September or October last year I bought my first iPhone.  I had held out for a long time; my old Nokia still worked, you see.  It had some years ago become a dinosaur, but not so old as to not have a text function.  I discovered this quite by accident once while digging around on various functions I had never used looking for an alarm clock.  Wow! To my absolute astonishment, I had three very old text messages – about a year old by that time.  Hmmmm, no need to reply now.  Anyway my old phone didn’t have an alphabet key pad and it would have taken months to tap out replies.
            So one reason I got a new phone was so that I could send and receive texts more easily.  My text etiquette (or textiquette) was not good, but I figured I could fake it until I learned the ropes.  Furthermore, my oldest granddaughter, Emma, was twelve and had given up actually talking on the phone (preferring texting and Facebook), so I knew if I ever wanted to have communication with her, I would need to text.
            Reason number two was the keys on my old phone had begun to stick and it was getting to be impossible to even use it as a phone.  Therefore, no choice.  Buy an iPhone.
            I didn’t do too badly at first.  There was the occasional odd message when I hit “send” instead of erase, but I was improving.  Then after Christmas I got a text from a phone number I didn’t recognize.  It was a general greeting about hoping I had enjoyed a nice holiday and let’s get together soon.  At the bottom of the text it said “HNY.”  HNY?  Who in the world did I know with those initials?  I reread the text.  Still no clue.  HNY,  HNY.  Who was that?
            I am horrified to tell you that I pondered this for several days.  Maybe a week.  Then it came to me.  I’ll bet you’re thinking, “Hurray, I’m not as dumb as she is.”
            Hands down I am the dumbest person you know.  There you have it.  Probably also the oldest since I still hark back to the days when correspondence begins with “Dear” and ends with a name. 
            So don’t feel bad about quitting on your New Year’s Resolutions.  Being stupid takes longer to admit to and is harder to overcome.
            HNY to all!

2 comments:

  1. You are hilarious! And wow do I ever relate. I so dread getting a text because I know it's a real commitment to tap tap tap out the answer on my old phone using only full monosyllabic words. But thanks for hookin' me up with at least one new text--HNY, can't wait till next year to use it!

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  2. you forgot to mention your son Cory Joseph Hille in the book he is the son of Jo Bob Hille son of Mary Ann and JoBob Hille. He is married with two beautiful daughters, Lillian Rose Hille, Destney Nichole Hille and wife Cheree Lee Hille. Both served in the US Army. Currently living in New Bedford Massachuttes. He was not mentioned in this book at all. you can contact him as Cory Hille or wife Cheree Hille on face book.

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