Don't text and drive!

Or should I say “dnt txt n drv”? However you spell it, it’s lethal. I should know. I have (mea culpa) been guilty of all kinds of high tech baloney behind the wheel of my not-so-souped-up Prius on the long slog between the Hollywood Hills and El Segundo and back. I could say it’s the price of being wired to the max coupled with my mini-mini-mini-teensy-weensy-mogul position. But it’s not. It’s just addiction. You don’t have to have the Kindle open on the seat next to you while texting someone with the iPhone on your lap, simultaneously listening to Dennis Miller on Salem. You don’t. Dennis is enough. He is sufficient. Otherwise you or someone close to you or just someone completely innocent and unknown will end up like those unfortunate people in Boston. Enough.