My phone...

...which is, incidentally, the first cell phone I've ever owned, has a number that was previously assigned to one Wang Lee.

I know this because I received an automated bill-collection call for said person today. Since the message said "...if you are not Wang Lee, please hang up" -- I am not, never have been, and have no intention of ever being Wang Lee -- I followed directions.

That explains a few odd calls I received during the first two weeks I had the phone. Those were in Chinese, and the callers seemed perturbed that I speak only English. My Chinese vocabulary is restricted to "ni hao" (meaning, roughly, "hello") and "Hong qui" ("Red Flag"). Can't have much of a conversation with those....

I don't know what Wang has gotten into, but it can't be good.

On the other hand, I pity the poor fool who eventually gets my former land-line number. They'll get some calls, too, and for a while at least some may not be too pleasant. They'll be in English, though.

But I must say having the little mobile phone has been a gift from Heaven. It certainly suits my current peripatetic lifestyle. Even with its Southern California-based number, it happily sends and receives calls in my current location, which is several states away. It kept me in contact with two Very Important People during my travels on the Big Gray Dog, and has made it possible for a select few others to talk to me.

And it will move with me to my next destination, which will happen in a few days. It simply doesn't care, as long as I hang it on the charger once in a while and regularly feed it fresh minutes.

Hey, look at me: I'm modern at last!