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Coming soon:
One phone
to rule us all

Not long ago, if you heard someone say "I'm lost without my cell phone," it would just be another one of those self-appreciating phrases Respectable People use to thinly veil their conceit, kind of like "music is my life" or "after volunteering all day at the shelter, the yacht is my sanctuary."

But soon cell phones will tell all of us where to go, guide us there like it's our first day of kindergarten and hand us the PowerPoint presentation we need once we arrive.

Like all new U.S. tech trends, all-powerful cells are already old hat in Asia. Right now there's a Japanese kid on a subway attempting a hostile takeover of Toshiba Corp. using using only his thumbs, while U.S. CEOs are still impressing themselves playing Tetris in the executive elevator.

But since we're still at the base of this high-tech mountain, I've got a few Digital Slob ideas about what we should be able to do once we finish the climb. Here's how I see a typical day with my fantasy SuperCell:

First, I wake up 55 minutes late for work (an on-par start for me). But now I don't have to call the boss and perform a piece of voicework worthy of an Oscar. I can simply punch in *74255283 (*SICKLATE) on my SuperCell, and a pre-typed email saying my doctor's appointment is running late is automatically sent to his inbox.

Then I peruse snail mail to find I've been summoned for jury duty. This calls for a *58796887 (*JURYNUTS), which triggers another note from my pharmacist informing the Clerk of Court that my anti-psychotic drug regimen makes me unable to serve unless someone comes to my house and unstraps me first. Voilà!

Once in the car, SuperCell plays "Beauty & the Beast," "our song," according to my wife. It's our anniversary. I hit *1276737 (*12ROSES) and my account is instantly debited for a delivery later this afternoon.

Wait. Didn't I forget last year, AND the year before that? Plus, she freaked out yesterday when she caught me applying her roll-on deodorant after mine ran out. Hmmm, this might be the year to double up (redial -- *1276737).

Then I hit another bump in the road -- the fuzz. My vehicle inspection sticker is expired. Others might have to pull over, but armed with my SuperCell, I simply wave it at him and he cruises patiently behind me as I hit *368 (*DOT -- Department of Transportation) which links to the city database. Thanks to pre-installed sensors on my car, the DOT then performs a wireless 10-point system check and clears my record without me even slowing down -- assuming my blinkers work and I've got the funds to cover the late penalty.

That's no sure thing, since I just financed 12 emergency roses -- twice -- two minutes ago. Wait for it ... there, it went through. The cop tips his hat and speeds away.

Once at work, I need caffeine -- hey, I only got 10 hours of sleep last night. Thankfully, the vending machine has my number. I punch *3438 (*DIET) and out comes a Diet Coke. That's the plan, anyway -- this time it says "insufficient funds." Guess I'm all tapped out until payday. I should be swimming in carbonated soda right now, but I didn't get that promotion, probably because I punched *SICKLATE 16 times last year.

Ah, well, guess it's time to hit *737863 (*RESUME) and flood the Web with my brag sheet.

Maybe that Japanese kid on the subway is hiring.