Heart of Palm

Come, join us, and know the power of the Palm Way

by Kris Frieswick

Okay, we think you've had plenty of time to think about this. We've been patient and understanding, and we've taken it all in stride. The incident when you booked dinner dates with three different people, including us, for the same night; those times you forgot our birthday. The missed dental appointments. The overlooked project deadlines. We know you're not inconsiderate by nature. You don't mean to screw up. It's just that you're so darn busy, you can't keep it all straight. Sure, we understand. We really do. But we think we've waited long enough.

We feel it is time that you accepted the Palm Pilot as your personal savior.

Yes, they're expensive. Yes, the graffiti-handwriting thing is a challenge. Yes, everyone has one and you are not a trend person. Yes, it's based on an operating system that you do not understand. Its mysteries are vast. We understand.

We all went through this denial ourselves at one point or another. And, as we said, we have been patient. Oh, so very patient. But we feel it's time for you to make a decision to either join us or get out of our way.

You see, we already have accepted the Palm into our lives. We know what we are talking about. We have admitted to ourselves that we can't possibly remember all the things we need to do, places we need to go, people we need to know. We are busy, important people, whose lives are filled with busyness and importance. And before we had Palms, we used to forget. Oh my, how we would forget. We would forget lunch dates, dinner dates, birthdays, anniversaries, doctors' appointments.

Once we even forgot what day it was. As in, completely forgot. We had to turn on the Weather Channel to be reminded.

For a while, we worshipped those paper-based reminder systems, but we would forget to look at them. Or we'd forget to rewrite all the "things to do" on the next day's page. Or we wouldn't bother to go through and transfer all the birthdays and anniversaries into the new, clean, white day-planner sheets that would arrive in a trunk-sized box each November -- causing several large and nearly irreparable family rifts each and every year. All the little slips of paper we'd accumulate would go right into the FiloFax, or DayTimer, or DayRunner, or MasterMinder, or whatever false prophet we believed in at the time, and before February, our reminder system would resemble a family scrapbook and weigh about as much.

We've surrendered to the fact that the human brain is just not built for ready access to the vast amount of data needed on a regular basis. We've surrendered to the cult of Palm.

You can tell this because we remember everything you ever told us about yourself: where you live, your phone number, your birthday, your parents' names. We never miss appointments, because our Palms beep to remind us that something important is about to happen. We set goals and we meet them, because our "to do" items are readily visible -- complete with deadlines -- on the screens of our Palms. Like tiny, nagging voices, they constantly remind us of how much we still have left to do, how far behind we are, how we'll never really catch up to the ambitious goals we've set for ourselves unless we hop to it.

Then comes that blessed day when we can take the stylus and check the beloved "completed" box. Oh, sweet "completed" box. We are ablaze with a sense of self-esteem and empowerment on that day, let us tell you. And we have the Palm to thank for making us realize how inferior we are to It and Its great benevolent planning capabilities. We are thankful. Oh yes.

And you will be thankful, too, if only you will admit your own inadequacy and accept the better way. The Palm Way. Without it, you are a mere pothole on the smooth, dark highway that is our lives, thanks to the organizational munificence of the Palm. We lay before you the opportunity for eternal
timeliness.

As we stand here with you now, we are awash in pity. Frankly, you disgust us, with your paper and your pens and your large "Month at a Glance" calendar tacked so garishly on your office wall. With your little "oh, it slipped my mind," and your pathetic "gee, did you tell me that already," and your whimpering, obscene "golly, I didn't even realize . . . "

You are inferior, and you will be washed away with the other unsystematic subhumans once the cult of Palm has taken over this disorganized, perpetually late planet, where penciled-in "to do" items are never given the weight that they deserve .

Let it be written that one day, you non-believers will come to see the errors of your ways, and lo, they are many. For proper and efficient management of time is the one true path to eternal enlightenment, happiness, and deadline-meeting.

And we will raise our Palms high, and proudly, and on that day when we finally take over the earth, you will be judged not by your moral worth.

No, my friend, you will be judged according to whether or not you remembered our last birthday.

Kris Frieswick can be reached at krisf1@gte.net.

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