I got a new phone. I love it. Dan gave it to me right before I left on the long drive to Illinois for turkey, with two kids, a decrepit old dog and a bum knee in the car. I like to think he gave it to me so that if the car broke down I could tell Siri "I need a tow truck" and she would order one up for me, like a small computerized body guard or an obedient domesticated pocket robot assistant. The idea of domestic robots is exciting to me. Ten years ago, I named my first robot; Algernon will never know how to do more than vacuum a room, much less tell me what a Wappy Dog is or where to locate one but he is still monumental to me.
I want to keep my new pocket assistant safe, so I decided to find a case, or as I like to think of it a tiny little toddler proof vest. I went to Best Buy. To my surprise, there were people in tents on the side walk. I got excited about talking to some Occupiers; maybe they would ask me not to patronize the corporate box store, maybe they would tell me about all the things in there not made in America, or about how none of the people working inside have the leverage to negotiate decent health insurance. As I saw the camper's smiling faces, the realization they were camping in preparation for black Friday descended. It was the exact opposite of what I was anticipating.