While the day after Christmas isn't often a day for self-loathing (self-loathing having been used up during the previous week, either due to too much time in the mall or a mistletoe and eggnog-induced session of tonsil hockey with someone from the mailroom during an office holiday party), I do find that, on this Boxing Day, there's a small part of myself that hates me. Why?

I gave the green light for the wife to get me a cell phone for Christmas, and she went ahead and did it.

To some extent, my position on cell phones remains unchanged. They are a tool of evil, allowing rising self-importance levels and facilitating any number of roadway fatalities because a soccer mom piloting a Ford Excursion is discussing the latest offering from Starbucks with another soccer mom driving another Ford Excursion rather than doing something as passe as looking at the road.

There is also the secondary problem, that being one of over-availability. For that, at least, I have the comfort of the power button. I suppose if I only have the phone on when it seems most necessary, I can mitigate most of the dark power cell phones generate. But that strikes me as the same fallacy that one employs upon getting that first credit card that you swear is only going to be used for emergencies. The day comes where you're a little short of cash and you charge your textbooks. Next thing you know going to Cancun for spring break is a Defcon-1 emergency and you're maxed out.

Clearly, I have more thinking to do on this issue.