Growing Up in Cambridge

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Kaye Barley is an avid mystery reader and Dorothy L poster, who lives in the beautiful North Carolina mountains with her handsome husband, Donald, and their faithful companion, Harley Doodle Barley – the cutest Corgi on God’s green earth. Kaye is also a blogger and you can find her, along with friends, at Meanderings and Muses. The Stiletto Gang can take part of the credit for this new venture of Kaye’s, since her very first blog was right here on July 25th of last year. She had so much fun, she hasn’t stopped blogging since.

What fun being back here and I thank the gracious women of The Stiletto Gang for having me!

When I was first here last July, I was still a bit wobbly about having kicked my cigarette habit. Well, I want you all to know that its been 9 months and I still have not had a cigarette. Ta DA! I do believe I’m there, don’t you? Although, I must say – it would be awfully easy to pick up a pack of Virginia Slims today and enjoy the heck out of one more cigarette. But – there’s no such thing as that “one more cigarette,” so we’ll just pass on all that. So – do I miss it? Yes and No. I miss that total feeling of relaxation I would have when I’d get home from work, settle down with a book, a fresh cup of coffee and a cigarette. I will always miss that. But then on the other hand – while working and the mood for a cigarette would hit, it didn’t matter if it was 3 below zero, with the wind whipping around at hurricane force. If I wanted a cigarette, by golly, I was gonna have that cigarette. Bundled up in mountain winter weather gear and an unattractive toboggan hat perched on my head, gloves so heavy it was hard to even hold a cigarette, out into the snowy elements I’d tromp to enjoy that cigarette. Do I miss that?!! Pfft. I’d say not.

Also, while I was here I talked a little bit about growing up in the town of Cambridge, MD. Growing up in Cambridge was one of the loveliest things in my life. As it happens, I was feeling a bit homesick for Cambridge when I was here and writing about it helped. So, while my first visit to The Stiletto Gang was fun, as it turns out, because it was part of a whole lot of little things that were happening around that same time, it put me on the pathway to becoming a blogger. Something I had not a whit of understanding about at the time. Now, I recognize it as a fun, creative outlet for me, and a nice place for folks to hang out. So, thanks to The Stiletto Gang, I’ve stumbled into something that has become an important facet of my life – as is the town of Cambridge, MD.

There are a million Cambridge stories and here’s just one.

Laws, I hope my dad forgives me for telling this one!

When I was growing up there were a couple of “stag” bars in Cambridge. Did y’all have those? No women. I don’t know if they specifically ever said “No Women,” or if women just wouldn’t be caught dead in them. There was one on Race Street not far from our apartment called the D-D Bar. It was owned by a friend of Dad’s named Monk Bradley, and it was a wonderful little place. I loved it – it was one of those grown-up “Not Allowed” places I would sneak into; along with the other Race Steet kids. And then be surprised when my mom showed up at the door to get me ’cause someone had called her. The D-D Bar was long and narrow and dark. There were maybe 4 booths in the front, a real long bar with a brass foot rail. There were also pinball tables, a shuffleboard table and a dart board.

If Monk needed him on Saturdays, Daddy thought it was a great (and fun!) way to make some extra money.

We had a local radio station in Cambridge, and on Saturdays, Ed Brigham would make a phone call to give away a free prize to someone if they could answer the question of the day.

On this particular Saturday, Mother and I were home, and the radio was on, of course. We heard Mr. Brigham announce that the question of the day phone call was about to be made. And we, of course, were hoping our phone would ring. Well, it didn’t, but we did hear a very familiar voice over the radio say “D-D Bar, Al speaking.”

How fun – my dad!!!!

Mr. Brigham said “Hey Al, this is Ed Brigham, how ya’ doin’?” After a few minutes of small talk exchanging some “how’s the family” kinda stuff, Mr. Brigham told Dad he would win two free tickets to the Arcade Movie Theater if he could answer the question of the day.

You could hear all the local Cambridge bar flies talking and hollering in the background, pinball machines ping pinging and all that bar noise. So Dad yelled for everyone to quiet down ’cause Ed Brigham had a question.

The question was “How long is a decade?”

pfft.

Well, Mother and I laughed and she said she guessed she & Dad would be going downstairs to see a free movie soon. We lived in a wonderful old apartment over the Arcade Movie Theater.

Then we heard dad over the radio yelling to the guys in the bar “Ed wants to know how long is a DUCK EGG!!”

A duck egg.

Mother and I just about fell in the floor screaming we were laughing so hard.

You could hear all these men saying stuff like, “a Duck Egg? Hell, I don’t know, Jim Bob – what do you think?” Answers like “2 inches, 3 inches – oh hell no, an inch and a half,” and things like “Who the hell cares??” were all loud and clear over the radio. This went on for awhile and finally dad was laughing and said something like “Well, Ed, we think maybe an inch and a half.”

Ed Brigham was hysterical and said “Al. Hazel is going to kill you. NOT a Duck Egg! A DECADE!!!!!!!!”

Dead silence on Dad’s end. Then he started laughing really hard and started telling the guys in the bar that he’d made a mistake and what the question really was and you could hear those men laughing and laughing to beat the band.

For years anytime we went out to eat, especially in Ray Dayton’s restaurant on Race Street, someone would holler “Hey Al! How long’s a Duck Egg?!”

Cheers,
Kaye Barley
http://meanderingsandmuses.blogspot.com/

A Dark Comedy

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It’s Tuesday night and I’m starting to feel the pressure of not having a blog written for Thursday. Thursdays are my responsibility! The Northern Half of Evelyn David has Mondays.

I got back from the Love Is Murder conference on Monday afternoon – it’s a long drive from Chicago to Oklahoma. I’m still a little punchy from staring at a highway for 13 hours. But the conference was wonderful and I enjoyed my time there. Picked up a few advance copies of Murder Takes the Cake. My co-author and I are using 90% of them to send out to reviewers. The official publication date is May, so even my mom is having to wait for a copy.

I had originally scheduled Tuesday off from my day job – you know, the job that pays the bills and allows me to write in the evenings and weekends? But since I’d been out of the office for a full week, lots of little annoying things were piling up. I’d received a half dozen calls from co-workers on Monday during my drive back. Nothing really critical, but all considered urgent by the callers. I decided that my week would be much smoother if I went to the office on Tuesday and got started weeding out my in-box.

I work for the Oklahoma Department of Mines running the Coal Mining division. We issue mining permits, enforce environmental regulations, and ensure that mined areas are reclaimed. With my biology degree in hand, I started as an inspector over twenty years ago. I think, as with most people, some days I love my job – others not so much. Today was one of those “not so much” days. A dear friend and co-worker is very ill. Except for a couple of scattered days, he’s been in one hospital or another since January 1. No one seems to know what’s wrong with him – all tests are negative but he’s experiencing severe lower back and abdominal pain. I’ve been picking up some of his supervisory duties while he’s been out, but we all miss him terribly.

The other major thing I’m dealing with concerns an upcoming office move. We have to vacate our current office by June 30 and, as of today, we haven’t nailed down new office space. Just in case the general public is unaware, there is almost nothing in the world harder and more unnecessarily complicated than moving an Oklahoma state agency office from one location to another. The only thing harder is closing an office. I spent at least three hours today discussing with a contractor, my immediate supervisor, my office manager, and the agency director the technical space requirements for state office building bathrooms, whether or not the square footage in bathrooms count towards our allowed office space, and how many bathrooms we were entitled to have. It was suggested … not by me … that we have one unisex bathroom in the new building and use the extra square footage for another private office. I don’t know how other people feel about unisex bathrooms in offices – but I’ll vote no every time. In fact I might have shouted to my direct supervisor over the telephone (a male whose office is in a large office building some 150 miles away from my small field office, a building that has multiple sets of male and female bathrooms on all floors) something like, “I’d give up every private office in the space before I’d give up having separate male and female bathrooms.” There was this stunned silence on the other end of the line after my outburst – I don’t think it ever crossed his mind that a unisex bathroom would be a problem.

Oh well … maybe Murder Takes the Cake will be a hit and I can give up my glamorous day job. My co-author suggested that I should try for a humorous blog this week, but I just don’t have it in me to be funny right now. Can you tell?

I’m in my living room writing this blog, surrounded by unpacked suitcases, tornado alerts blaring on the television (it’s a little early in Oklahoma for tornado season – but hey, it’s been one of those days), and I need to clean the leftovers out of my refrigerator. I also need to buy a fresh copy of Turbo Tax and do my taxes this weekend. Yea! Something to look forward to!

Funny – I need to think of something funny. I saw Rachel Getting Married on pay-per-view at the hotel in Chicago. It was billed as a dark comedy. That was half right. It was dark – very, very dark. I didn’t laugh even once, so I don’t count it as a comedy. Do you remember the movie Ordinary People? Rachel Getting Married was as much a comedy as that movie was!

So let’s see – I’ve covered travel, illness, tornados, taxes, unisex bathrooms, government bureaucracy, and bad movies.

I definitely need to find my way out of this week and get back to something cheerful – writing murder mysteries!

Evelyn David

Social Networking

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My MySpace page never amounted to anything. I thought I’d be really cool and put a Beyoncé song on there so people would know how hip I was, but after a few days, I noticed an alert on my site that said: “Song removed by artist.” How did Beyoncé know that I had her song on there? I never could quite figure that out and I was terrified that I had broken some copyright law much less angered Beyoncé. So, I stayed off of MySpace and vowed never to join the social networking world again.

Until a friend turned me on to Facebook. This, to me, seems like a very user-friendly, very safe place to social network. Hey—even my Mom’s on there! I have reconnected with about a third of my high-school graduating class (hi, girls!), a bunch of people I used to work with (remember those crazy annual business plans? Good times…), my old neighbors (remember that time when…you don’t…well, ok). It’s a great way to advertise when your latest book comes out and a good way to stay in touch with people far and near.

There are just a few problems with the social networking idea, though: getting “friend” requests from people you don’t know, and never hearing back from people to whom you yourself have sent a “friend” request. Awkward on both accounts. I’m assuming that those people who send you friend requests—and whom you’ve never met—have found you on one of your other friend’s lists and thinks that because you have one common friend, the two of you will have stuff in common. And that you’ll be interested in reading their status updates. Or, that they are trying to amass as many friends as possible so that they have a robust list. I’m not sure. I only “friend” people I knew or know now, which is why I don’t understand when they don’t “friend” me back. Maybe they just don’t like? Hard to tell.

One thing’s for sure: this is the most like a high school student I’ve felt in about thirty years. That’s one problem. (Or two, technically, I suppose.) The second is that I’m a little obsessed with Facebook. I now have another time-wasting site to visit, going back to last week’s theme of procrastination. I have plenty of work to keep me busy and technically, I should be a little further along on book 5. But I find the status updates from friends scintillating and worthy of my time. Tell me, though: do I really need to check it so obsessively every day to find out who had a pastrami on rye for lunch? Or who has decided to leave work early? Or who is on their second gin and tonic (and it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon)? Probably not. I was living a full life before Facebook not knowing these little tidbits. Now I’m loathe to miss even one update.

The latest craze on Facebook is to post twenty-five things about yourself. These lists take many forms and have many different kinds of entries from the banal (“I don’t like onions”) to the poignant (“I wish I were a better friend to x or x”). I’ve been “tagged”—asked to contribute my own list of twenty-five things—but I feel like if I need to share that many things about myself, I’ll get my husband liquored up and make him listen to me drone on about the things I don’t think he knows about me. (And trust me—he knows everything there is to know, hence, the liquored up part.)

Thanks to fellow Stiletto Gang member Susan McBride, I no longer check my Amazon number, read reviews of my books online, or Google myself. Should we add Facebook to the list? Should I limit myself to one viewing in the morning and/or one at night? Or should I go off completely?

I have a friend who just took the drastic step of going through her friend list and “un-friending” anyone with whom she was just not a true friend. This meant the guy who used to work in marketing at our old company, or the hair dresser she had when she lived across the country, and a few other people who my friend reflected on, coming to the conclusion that they just weren’t very nice to her when they lived/worked/or went to school together. I thought this was truly radical but not a step I’m willing to take right now.

So, for the foreseeable future, I will wait with baited breath to read whether or not you got your car’s oil changed, or got that promotion, or read the latest book in the “Twilight” series. I, in the interest of a reciprocal friendship, will let you know how I did on Weight Watchers this week, or what my favorite “King of Queens” episode is.

That’s what (virtual) friends are for, right?

Maggie

Preparing for a Virtual Blog Tour and Freezing

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Because I’m going to have a blog tour in March for No Sanctuary, I’ve been answering interviews and writing articles. Did some yesterday and finished the rest that I’d been given today.

Meanwhile our gas heater quit working on Sunday–that’s the main heater for the house. Fortunately for me, there’s another heater, down the hall and near my office, so if I close the door into the living room, it keeps the office fairly decent.

Sunday night, went to bed early to keep warm–did some editing and watched TV.

Hate to complain since the rest of you have snow and ice and all that cold stuff. It was 38 when I got up this morning and it’s been raining all day. Had some thunder and it got dark as night at 3 p.m.

The guy from the Gas Co. arrived a bit ago right in the middle of the biggest downpour. He fixed the heater–yeah, already warmer. And it’s stopped raining, at least for awhile.

We need rain desperately–they tell us it’s our(California’s) third year of drought. Hope all the rain we’ve been having lately (along with the snow in the mountains) will take care of the problem.

My new publisher has put an old romance of mine, Lingering Spirit, on the Kindle, wish I had one to take a look at it. I know some of my mysteries are already there.

Yes, I do love electronic gadgets, it just takes me awhile to figure out how to use them. When all else fails, I ask my 18 year old granddaughter and she always seems to know the answer.

Marilyn
http://fictionforyou.com

Eight is More than Enough

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The California woman who gave birth to octuplets last week isn’t the first mother to try and make a buck from her kids. It’s appalling but she’s already hired a PR firm to field her offers.

Remember the Dionne Quintuplets? Born in 1934, the Canadian government took the girls from their parents and put them on display, as if they were freaks like the two-headed cow in Ripley’s Believe It or Not. Millions of tourists visited Quintland, the theme-park like environment where the Dionne girls lived. Visitors watched from behind mesh screens as the children played twice a day. Quintland was Ontario’s biggest tourist attraction of the era. From infancy until age nine, these children were not allowed to have friends, attend village school, or have contact with their parents or siblings. When they were finally returned to their parents, virtual strangers to them, the Quints continued to be the family money-makers.

I don’t see much difference between the Dionne quintuplets childhood, and a host of reality shows on The Learning Channel which feature families with many kids. In all cases, for the sake of entertainment of the public and in exchange for big bucks for the parents, we have stripped young children of their privacy. In one wildly popular show, nothing of the kids’ lives is off-limits – bathing, toileting, tantrums, doctors visits – yep, all caught on tape for eternity. The parents even installed industrial lighting in their home to make filming easier. The adults discuss their offspring on camera as if they were gossiping about strangers. For those who would argue that the children are soooooo cute – since when did we decide that it was okay to use young kids’ real lives to entertain us?

One in six Americans is affected by infertility. Medical treatment gives hope to women who otherwise would not be able to get pregnant. But responsible doctors deliberately limit the number of embryos transferred at any one time. Conscientious medical professionals carefully monitor the number of eggs released when using Clomid (or similar fertility drug) and cancel procedures when there are too many follicles that might result in a pregnancy of higher-order multiples. Good fertility clinics do psychological screening before treatment so a woman who already has six children under the age of seven, one of whom is a special-needs child, would probably not be accepted for treatment.

Children are a blessing. As parents we must treasure and care for each one. As the viewing public, we must put an end to this Hollywood-ization of large families. If their own parents won’t protect the children on these reality shows, it’s up to us to vote with our TV remotes.

Evelyn David

Love Is Murder – Saturday Events

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My second day at Love Is Murder is almost over. Only thing left is the “mother of all” booksignings and the awards banquet. The booksigning starts in 30 minutes and then the banquet follows.

I attended three panels today – Humor in Mysteries, Screenwriting, and a question and answer session with some police detectives. Listening to cops talk about their cases is always very interesting. They had the audience hanging on their every word. Several had been involved in serial killer cases and they talked fairly freely about the crimes and how they were solved.

The screenwriting panel featured a gentleman, James Strauss, who has written for both feature movies and television. Currently he’s writing for House and trying to switch careers. He wants to write novels. It was fun listening to him talk about the Hollywood scene and some of the actors/directors/producers he’s known. He handed out a “treatment” he’d done for a new tv series so we’d have an example of how to write one. Apparently “treatments” are what you use to “pitch” a screenplay. He was very clear that we shouldn’t use the word “pitch,” instead call it a “presentation.” He also said if we were serious about writing screenplays, we should buy “Final Draft” – a software program that is the industry standard.

My afternoon panel on Collaborative Writing went well. The audience was very small, but those who attended had lots of questions. Susan Smily and Honora Finkelstein authors of the Ariel Quigley mystery series sat next to me. I met them for the first time two years ago at Love Is Murder and we’ve crossed paths many times. It was fun to catch up on all the news.

After my panel there was a “tea” in one of the larger banquet halls. While I was there, I met Deb Baker, author of the Gretchen Birch mystery series and the Gertie Johnson mystery series.

The best thing about conferences is meeting people and authors you’ve chatted with on-line!

Got to get ready for the signing.

More later.

Evelyn
http://www.evelyndavid.com/

Love is Murder – Friday Events

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My first day at the Love is Murder conference is winding down. Murder Takes the Cake and Missing showed up in the conference bookstore about noon. Believe me I was lurking in the hallway, waiting to catch a glimpse as soon as the bookseller put them on the table.

As I was counting the toes and fingers of my newborns (Just kidding but not much. Writing a book is like giving birth), Karen Syed of Echelon Press (my publisher) walked up and asked how I liked the cover. I told her the truth, I love the cover. Echelon does great covers. Whiskey is front and center again.

I had brought posters of all three books (Murder Off the Books, Murder Takes the Cake, and Missing). I put those out on a table with bookmarks. There were multiple panels on Friday afternoon, but I only had time to attend one, what with all the hallway lurking and carting promo materials from my room to the conference area. (Note to self – wear the running shoes tomorrow no matter what they look like with your suit.)

The panel I sat in on today was Power Marketing. Morgan Mandel moderated it. She did a wonderful job covering a large number of topics. Rosemary Harris, Joanna Campbell Slan, and Jennie Spallone were featured. Lots of info on blogging, making posters, and promo items was relayed.

There was a big signing event for Missing just before the dinner sponsored by Echelon authors. At least 10 or 11 of the 17 authors who contributed to the anthology were at one long table to sign copies for people who had purchased the book today. Proceeds from Missing are being donated to the National Center for Missing and Abused Children.

After dinner Centuries and Sleuths bookseller Auggie Aleksey read an essay on Sherlock Holmes.

One of my favorite authors – Jeffery Deaver was in the audience. He, along with Steve Berry and Sharan Newman, are the conference’s featured authors. Recently I read his latest, The Bodies Left Behind. Great book!

Tomorrow, I want to attend a panel at 9:00 am – The Doctor Is In – an emergency room doctor is going to offer some help with medical problems that come up in mysteries. The program mentioned “slides.” Can’t wait!

There’s a screenwriting panel at 10:00 am. I’d like to make that one too.

At 2:30 pm I’m on a panel concerning Collaborative Writing. I plan to explain how “Evelyn David” writes and why we’re able to make it work!

I’ve had a full day. Would love to end it with a viewing of the latest Battlestar Galactica but alas (writers can say “alas”) the hotel doesn’t get the Sci-Fi channel. Someone please email me at evelyndavid@evenlyndavid.com and tell me what happens in tonight’s episode!

I’ll be coming home with a few advace copies of Murder Takes the Cake. If you want one, contact us at the email address above. First come, first served. The scheduled publish date is May 2009.

Evelyn
http://www.evelyndavid.com

Cover Girl!

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by Susan McBride

It all started a few months back when I got an email from out of the blue. “We’d like to put you on the cover of St. Louis Woman Magazine,” it said, and the note was signed “Lynn Deane, associate publisher.”

Maybe it’s my mystery background that makes me suspicious, but I initially wondered if it was a hoax. Before I even told my husband about the message, I did some online sleuthing, double-checking Lynn’s email with the staff listing on the magazine’s web site. Yep, it seemed kosher. She’d given me her cell number and asked that I call with an answer soon. I figured that would tell the tale, too. If someone picked up, saying, “Bertie’s Dry Cleaners,” then I’d know it was a joke.

So I dialed and held my breath until the ringing stopped and a woman said, “Hello,” and identified herself as Lynn. Apparently, she was on vacation in Florida, and I felt like I was in La-La Land. Giddy that this was for real, I breathlessly told her, “Yes, yes, yes, I’d love to be a St. Louis Woman Magazine cover girl!” I mean, who in her right mind would turn down such an offer? We talked for several minutes though I can hardly remember a word I said. My head was still in the clouds. Though I do recall learning that the producer of “Great Day St. Louis” (a local morning show on which I’d appeared in September) had suggested me as a potential cover girl. Wow. It’s nice to know that all those manners my mom tried to teach me might have impressed someone (see “Excuse My Manners,” if you don’t know what I’m talking about).

Not long after, I was contacted by the managing editor of Indianapolis Woman and St. Louis Woman (the same company publishes both). She wanted to drive in from Indy to interview me at home. We set a time and date, and she showed up an hour early with her notebook in hand, ready to go (turns out, she was on Indy-time, not St. Louis time!). Five hours later, Ed had come home from work, and Rebecca was just getting ready to leave. I don’t know about y’all, but five hours of yakking had me worried about all the things I might’ve said that could get me in trouble.

Next, I heard from the art director who suggested doing the photo shoot at my house instead of the studio. I wasn’t sure how that would work, but was game. Not having to get out in the cold to drive anywhere–especially hauling several changes of clothes and all my books to use as props–sounded perfect! That way, Ed could drop in during the afternoon and be included in a shot. In fact, he showed up just after stylist to the stars, Darin Slyman, had finished with my hair and makeup. (Darin had some great stories about celebs he’d worked with–I told him he should write a book!) My mom even popped in to watch the goings-on. At one point, the living room was practically emptied of furniture and was filled instead with lights. Photographer Steve Truesdell and art director Michelle Thompson encouraged me to be expressive (which accounts for my very goofy look on the cover!). When I asked Michelle, “Why can’t I just smile and look pretty,” she responded, “too normal.” Okey-dokey.

Three changes of clothes and four hours later, I was pooped, and the crew packed up and took off. I think my face hurt from smiling and “being expressive.” Whew. I don’t know how those chicks on “America’s Top Model” do it. But I must confess that I had a ball.

As of this moment, I haven’t seen the actual magazine though I have peeked at some of the photos and the article on the web site. I’ll be handing out the issue from the St. Louis Woman Magazine booth at the Women’s Heart Health Fair in the Nordstrom courtyard of West County Center today and Saturday for an hour a pop. Can’t wait to hold a real-live copy in my hands!

P.S. Just heard from the managing editor who gave me this link to view the article on the Indianapolis Woman Magazine site. The St. Louis Woman cover story is only slightly different with a little less info about my early years in Indy. Nice!

The Road to Love Is Murder – Part III

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I’m writing this blog on Sunday morning. Thursday morning when this blog posts, I’ll be halfway to Chicago and the Love Is Murder conference. (I hope.) I’ll be updating this blog entry Thursday night after I arrive at the hotel. Be sure to check back through the weekend for the latest highlights and low-lights of my trip!

Wish me luck. I can’t wait to get my hands on copies of Murder Takes the Cake and Missing. They both debut at the conference.

If you want autographed copies of either, just send us an email at evelyn@evelyndavid.com

Copies of Murder Takes the Cake are very limited until May, so first come, first served!

****Update! 3:00 PM Central

I’m here!!! Chicago is cold but this is the first time I’ve been here that the skies have been clear.

Saw Rosemary Harris as I was checking into the hotel. She’s hosting a hospitality room at the conference and promoting her new book – The Big Dirt Nap.

My first order of business is to find a late lunch somewhere and then find where the book room is located. My publisher, Karen Syed of Echelon Press, is reported to be in the building somewhere. Can’t wait to find her and get my hands on Murder Takes the Cake and Missing.

More later.

Evelyn David
www.evelyndavid.com

To Blackberry or Not…

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I had an appointment in the New York City yesterday that would require me to spend several hours in a waiting room, followed by several more hours in another waiting room. The night before, faced with this prospect (and the one and half hours that I’d be spending on the train into and out of New York City) and thinking about other “wasted” times spent sitting around, I started to wonder: is it time to get a Blackberry?

As you all know, I work from home. Technically, although I do work for other people on a freelance basis, I work for myself. Should time spent sitting in a waiting room be productive, or should this be the time I catch up on my reading, make new friends (people in waiting rooms tend to want to talk to other people in the waiting room), or just meditate? I haven’t decided. But the pull toward the personal data assistant or whatever PDA stands for, is getting greater, and I turn to you, oh venerated Stiletto Gang readers for advice.

My sister, who works for a company who offers these devices and calling plans, said, “They’re great. But you are married to them then.” Another friend couldn’t live without hers. Would I become a slave to the PDA or forget I even had it? Do I really need to check my email every few minutes throughout the day, regardless of where I am? I’m undecided.

I returned from New York City yesterday to more than forty emails. Those of you in the corporate world are probably laughing, thinking to yourselves, “Forty? That’s bush league, sister. Try coming back to two hundred!” But in my world, forty is a lot. Especially since all of them include information that is necessary and meaningful. You in corporate America get at least twenty responses that say “I’ll be there” to the email that circulated about some meeting taking place Friday morning at ten. Those, my friends, do not count in your overall total. Would it have been better for me to sit in the waiting room and respond to at least twenty of those emails? Or does it not matter? Should my clients have to wait until I return or should I be available to them twenty four/seven? I leave these weighty questions in your hands.

I know that the Southern half of Evelyn David has a Blackberry, so I’m hoping she weighs in with the plusses and minuses of PDA ownership. I do know that I will have to invest in the device that has the largest key pad because even though I do not possess overly-large hands, I can’t imagine that I’ll be able to write messages with any kind of ease unless the keys on the keypad approach the size of those on my laptop. I know the keys are larger than those of my cell phone, but exactly how large do they need to be? All I know is that it took me ten minutes to text my daughter these two words, “not sure,” in response to her message to me, “What time will you be home?” I do not have that kind of time, people. And if you need an immediate answer from me on an important issue, do not—I repeat, do not—text me. It will be hours before I’m able to type a comprehensible reply.

I await your wise counsel. To Blackberry or not—that is the question.

Maggie Barbieri