Thank you, Mr. Cellphone...

I've had the same cellphone for four years. The thing's like another limb. I've grown so used to it, I could make a call blind folded while being pushed from a plane in a clown suit.

Two weeks ago, however I discovered my phone was inexplicably warm. I convinced myself it was nothing, and didn't think much of it.

But the seed was there... Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew. My phone was dyeing. It was only a matter of time before it went. And while I could think of several opportune times where it might be cool to have flames burst from my pants I knew I needed a new phone.

Yesterday I made the trip to the phone store, and now here I am: old reliable put to rest in my closet, while this new gadget lies on my desk, staring at me like an optimistic puppy wanting to be loved.

I won't bore you with setting it up, but I will mention this:

I used to misplace my old phone so much that my ringtone became the Can-Can, because it was such great theme music for when I was desperately scrambling around my home trying to find my phone before I missed a call.

These days I keep my phone closer, but I'm also a lot busier. Which is why my phone now plays the Overworld Theme to The Legend of Zelda, a tune embedded in my youth to remind me of just how much I rule.

It's as if the phone were saying, "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but you have a phone call. Oh, and just to remind you, you rule."

Thank you, Mr. Cellphone. I see we're going to get along just fine.