Leg lamps should not have cankles, support hose, and its slip showing.

I'm in the market for a new cell phone. Actually I've been in the market for a new cell phone since my puppy took a shine to the old one- a BlackBerry Pearl.

I like my old phone well enough. It's small, it's convenient. It rings, I answer. I can check email, take the occasional photo, twitter from the ER, and there you have it. I know how to use a rotary dial, so having a phone that does something more than place and receive calls is still kinda special to me, me being a hick and all, but I talk to lots-o-geeks and they are all raving about their Fancy Phones, and you know how you feel left out? Yeah, well, cell phone manufacturers know how you feel left out, too.

I'm tactile. I'm tuned into the way things feel, how they feel in my hands when I hold them. I'm also one of those people that hate using public door handles because I feel all the oil and dirt left behind by the thousands of other people who touched that door handle before me. I also know in that dirt are germs. I'm not a clean freak, I simply don't like other people's dirt.

What does that have to do with cell phones? Because I spend so much time holding a phone, it has to feel right in my hands. There are phones that feel nice- Palm Pre in all it's manifestations is one. My Pearl is another. The old clam shell flip phones- remember those?- they felt nice too, snuggled into your palm like an egg. So I went looking for an egg.

The Palm Pre Plus is a thing of beauty to me. It's clean and quiet, and sits like a gentle polished stone. I like that. A lot. I thought I'd like one. I would like one, in fact, except... There's this little problem. Remember how I said I know how to dial a rotary phone? That puts me at A Certain Age. As a Woman of a Certain Age, my eyes are also of A Certain Age. That means tiny little adorable black keys are useless to me. And while I completely, utterly, intimately understand that Women of a Certain Age are not the market demo for any cell phone manufacturer, the Jitterbug aside, I am the cell phone provider for my family. I might be a Woman of a Certain Age, but Dear Cell Phone Manufacturers, I am the influencer for thousands and thousands of dollars in cell phone payments. I am the influencer for my parents, my children, my husband, my friends. I'm not a geek, but I'm geekier than most the people I know so they listen to me, they don't listen to Twitter.

So here are my recommendations: Screens that are easy to read and simple to use. Keys that are tactile and large and not black. A phone that doesn't gross me out with all the finger prints all over it. I want a phone that is unlocked. If you provide service at a fair price, I'm sticking with you. If you suck, and I'm under contract, you suck harder- do you see that? Don't suck and I'm yours for as long as I can because I really don't want to change providers unless I have to. That's a really short wish list, don't you think? Y'all can do that in your sleep!

In my world, practicality wins over whizzbang every single time, so here's where I'm leaning: An unlocked BlackBerry World Edition. No camera, alas, but I'm free to find a provider that works for me, I can read it, dial out, and check email. Hell, I'll even be able to Twitter from the hospital- what more can a Woman of a Certain Age ask for?

I went digging through my music collection today and ran across a song for Greg Swann, and my own changing city, Dayton OH.