"Everybody gets so much information all day long that they lose their common sense." Gertrude Stein

                Have you ever had the most blissful holiday planned?  A little getaway for you and your partner?  Were you excited about the incredible experiences you would have?  The relaxation?  The ‘just the two of us’ moments that are required to keep a relationship fresh?  That is precisely how I felt plotting out a wonderful mini break in New York with my man.

                First it started with planning our hotel, a lovely midtown establishment, catering more to the thirty plus crowd with very few, if any, children.  Next it was orchestra seating for Wicked.  We were very excited to see this highly acclaimed musical.  We also made advance reservations at one of our favourite restaurants, one with seating not so easy to come by.  Lastly there were plans for relaxation, the American Woman Exhibit at the MET and many other wonderful moments to be had.

                As the days were counted down and the planning complete I cleared my schedule.  I let people know that I would be away.  I even turned on the autoresponder; something that is supposedly a faux pas but why not?  A little je ne sais quoi to offset a faux pas...c’est la vie. 

                There we were, leaving an hour later than scheduled however we were on vacation.  We kissed our babies goodbye sending them into the loving arms of Opa and Grandma for a few days knowing full well that they would be spoiled beyond belief.  We were all set and headed into magic of our first real vacation alone, not for work, in several years.

                It began quite subtly, the third party on our trip making their presence known.  At first it was a few innocent phone calls and emails and by hour five in the car, this party was fully in control seizing every opportunity to steal away the intimacy of our trip.  I should have given in to my urge to throw this said party from the car however I was a willing participant in this little dalliance and fully to blame for inviting them on the trip.  The party in question is of course my Blackberry a.k.a. the Crackberry!

                In another lifetime I read Tom Robbins books.  Mr. Robbins is famous for his breathing of life into inanimate objects such as cutlery and other things.  I believe that my Blackberry has a life of its own.  It happily buzzes with every new bit of information it receives.  Its weight indicates its presence in my handbag.  At times, the Blackberry even loves to operate like an inconspicuous two year old throwing a formidable tantrum to get attention.

                I keep threatening not to take the Crackberry with me from time to time.  In the end I justify it.  What if I get in an emergency?  What if the children need me?  If it was only so simple.  Could I turn it on and not look at emails or texts?  Could I ignore it?  Could I simply allow for my relationship to fall into the operative patterning of life before P.D.A.’s and IPads?  What a wondrous world that would be?

                I know I am not alone.  I have girlfriends who suffer from the third wheel.  They sleep with their IPhones and Blackberries beside their bed.  They answer them during waxing, pedicures and even on dates.  At business meetings they are secretly texting and emailing with their devices on their laps hoping no one will notice.  Much like passing notes in school – it is all well and good until you get caught.

                Even though I know that I am not alone, it is inexcusable.  I am a fully functioning adult capable letting go of my passive aggressive relationship with my Blackberry aren’t I?  I wonder if gambling and other addictions are so very yesterday?  When will there be support groups for slaves of cell phones?  I am not making light of any addiction, I am the child of an alcoholic.  I am just processing the notion that perhaps, in 2010, our expression of our addictive personalities is the use of our P.D.A.

                Much like smoking has been banned in many restaurants and public areas, I would like to propose new rules for those of us who are habitual slaves to our P.D.A.’s.  Perhaps cell phones should be the new cigarette – no calling within 50 feet of the door, no chatting on your phone or texting in restaurants.  What kind of world would it be? 

                In our desire to feel somewhat autonomous and yet feel connected perhaps the pendulum has swung so far that we can no longer simply have a relationship with someone without dragging along the third wheel.  It may look so small and harmless however the reality is that we can be so affected by the information we receive.

                It only takes one email or one text to turn a lovely day into a challenging one.  Last Sunday, I violated my own rule about no email on Sunday.  I took Avery to see Twilight and of course brought along the Crackberry.   Although I didn’t check emails in the movie, I did open them up in the car.  One in particular was something I did not want to deal with on a Sunday and sure enough I allowed it to change a lovely afternoon with my daughter.

                My question for you is this – are there three individuals in your relationship?  Could you, from time to time, simply let go and be perfectly present to one breathing human being and put down the Crackberry or the IPhone?  What would it take to stand up to that piece of metal and throw it in a drawer for a few hours or...horrors – an entire day?

                For myself, I am proclaiming a return to my original self imposed rules – no Blackberry on Sunday’s.  Furthermore, I openly declare that my next vacation will indeed be Blackberry free.  To my husband and children – you can count on that.