My trusty cell phone with internet

I love my wife Tracey. I really do. When she asks me to do something, it's done. Simple as that. It's worked well for 25 years.

I settled in to listen to the Opening Game about two hours before it went on-air. I didn't care. I was going to stare at my XM radio until I heard Charley's voice welcome me to RFK. I was ready. A few minutes before the game started, my wife walked into my den as asked if I would like to go see Miss congeniality with her. Oh no. Not tonight. But she looked at me with those aw-shucks puppy-dog eyes. And she really really really wants to go. But -- this is the Nats' OPENING GAME at home. I did the only fair and decent thing a man could do.

I lied.

"Honey ... I'm [cough cough] sick" I told her. She is a better person than me. "Oh Babe, we'll stay home ... how about Saturday?" I told her that was great. The games start in the early evening here in Idaho, and I figured I'd have plenty of time to both see the movie and listen to the Nationals.

Lies come back to haunt you.

This morning, my beloved told me, "I want to go see a matinee. That way, you'll have the evening for yourself." Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Crap. Can't lie to her twice. Miss Congeniality it was.

We settled into our plush theatre chairs with buckets of popcorn and boxes of candybars. After watching a half-dozen previews for upcoming movies, a talking box of Sweetarts asked us to turn off our cell phones so we wouldn't bother our "neighbors." Across the theatre you could hear the beeps of the cell phones being turned off. I grabbed mine to do the same. Just as I began to push the off button, a thought came to me. Doesn't this thing have the internet on it??

I pushed a couple of buttons and found the MLB website. "Nah, I thought." Couldn't be that easy. It was. There it was. The Nats game. Updated every 60 seconds. Whoooooooooooo.

I spent the two hours in the theatre flipping open my phone to catch the score. My wife kept asking me what I was doing. "Someone keeps calling and hanging up" I said. About the time that Sandra Bullock got hit in the stomach by her partner, I checked the score and saw this: WAS 2 ARZ 0. I let out a yell followed by a very sophomoric "Yessssssssssss!" Miss Congeniality my wife was not. I kept the phone closed for the rest of the movie. Speeding home to catch the last part of the game, my wife asked me to stop at the grocery store and pick up some food. *Wimper*

Alas, alls well that ends well. I got home just in time to listen to the 7th inning explosion by the boys. With my feet up on my desk, listening to nirvana [the feeling, not the group], my wife stuck her head in the door and said, "Next time, no phone!"

Deal. I really want a 26th year with her. She's still pretty hot.