Rosedale School of the Arts, the scene of the crime

Last week, when Egypt went into upheaval and government blocked the internet including Facebook and Twitter, Charlie Sheen got sent to rehab.  At the same time, somewhere in the middle of these two events (closer to Charlie Sheen), my son Freddy had his iPhone stolen from his pants pocket while he was in gym class.  I know what you’re thinking, what’s a grade niner doing with an iPhone?   When I was in high school, we used to communicate with Morse Code and looseleaf.  While I was in English class, I used to tap on the wall to my buddy Paul, who was on the other side of the partition snoring his way through Physics, we’d pass notes, play hangman and gossip and draw pictures of our teachers in their underwear…now that I think about, I must have been in love with him, and if I could remember his last name, I’ll look him up on Facebook.  Which brings me to my point, we are a society addicted to social media, our cellphones are our lifeline.  Stealing a little dude’s cellphone is the equivalent of stealing another man’s horse in the wild west.  Freddy’s iPhone was my old 3G when I upgraded to the 4 last summer.  Oh how we love(d) our phones, Freddy would play Angry Birds and I would just be stroking and scrolling through all my apps.  Righteous Teenage Daughter would bust us:  “Look at the two of you!  You’re not even watching that!”  She would be pointing to the t.v. and we would look up at her in defiance.  She had a point for sure.  There is something uncontrollably addictive about the iPhone and I know I’m in trouble because not only do I Facebook, I tweet also.  And I have the app called Foursquare, the one where you check into every place you go in order to unlock badges and obtain mayorships.  I’m not joking, adults are doing this.  The worst part is that there is an app called HootSuite that tweets, updates your Facebook status, and reports  your Foursquare location all at the same time!!  It is like a social media speedball and although I have it, I have yet to do it, I`m scared I will unleash a monster that tweets and poops at the same time.  I might not be the Charlie Sheen of iPhone addicts yet  but I confess I have an app that pops pimples and paints cats.  It`s a federation of craziness.  And I have been trying to curb my iPhone fondling while at home with Freddy, who now has a Nokia something or other, out of respect and sympathy.  The other day on Twitter, my beloved Dr. Drew (Celebrity Rehab) tweeted out something about people who think they beat their addictions, `your disease is always in the next room doing push ups.`  Mine is in its charger, I`m calling it rehab and I`m putting it on silent but keeping it on vibrate, a LOCA`s got to be in touch somehow.