If you’ve been following along with my blog, you might remember that back in January 2025 I had open-heart surgery to replace an aortic valve. No big deal. Today, heart surgery seems to be commonplace. Since then, I’ve had a couple of missteps here and there, and so, despite my resistance, it’s been recommended to purchase an Apple Watch. Funny, I’d been thinking of buying myself a new watch. Something sharp. Something you’d spot in a fancy, upscale jeweler’s window. Now, I’ve never been much for showy jewelry. Not that it isn’t nice, but it’s not me. I don’t even wear a wedding band too often. I should, but it feels confining (please don’t read anything into that statement). And when you have an iPhone, who really needs a watch? Hmmm. Now, it seems I do. Cause an Apple Watch is one way to track AFib. You know AFib. When the heart’s electrical system goes ka-flooey. Supposedly, an Apple Watch will warn you when you’re having the condition. It can take an ECG, and then, God forbid, call 911, so that just before you drop dead, you can share with the paramedics that your watch is buzzing. Can you tell yet that I’m not happy to wear it? Oh, you couldn’t tell? Well, I’m a very subtle guy.
What’s That Buzzing?
Now that I own a new Apple Watch, I’m beginning to understand why so many of my friends seem to be looking at their wrists. I thought it was because I was telling a long story, and they were eager to get away. But that’s not it at all. It seems my watch is very versatile. Not only is it lovely to look at (sort of – but not as lovely as those fabulously over-the-top watches in the stores), but it also vibrates. Imagine that. Just in case I’m not paying attention, my watch insists on letting me know important data is coming in. Like a friend’s recent Facebook post. Critical information for me to know. Or a DM from a friend of a friend of a friend. I can’t quite recall the last time I connected with that person? At a Christmas party? And of course, I must be reminded of the weather. It’s important to know, when you live in Phoenix, whether it will be sunny and dry. I mean, after all, it is nearly sunny and dry every day of the year. Anyway, it seems my wrist is vibrating all the time (no – I have not entered a second puberty).
It’s Time to Stand Up
As a writer, certain activities are good for you. Socializing with others. Exercising. Laughing from time to time (as long as you don’t make a spectacle of yourself). But I hadn’t considered that Apple would think it important to let me know when it’s time to stand up. After years of following Dorothy Parker’s sage advice on writing (I paraphrase: the act of writing is the art of applying the ass to the seat), I’ve discovered, much to my amazement, that I’m sitting too long. And so the watch is now channeling my late mother. Stand, Brad. Stand. What’s next? Go out and play! Messages about my diet? Do I really need to be eating crackers and cheese in the middle of the afternoon? Aren’t those crackers a lot of calories? Shouldn’t I be wearing a coat when I go out (it’s only 105 in Phoenix)? Anyway, I seem to be in an active state of rebellion. Rebellion against technology. Rebellion against any lifestyle advice. And for some odd reason (no, I will not be consulting my therapist), rebellion against my late mother, whom God knows, rest her soul, has done nothing wrong.
Tech Neck
It could be me (and I’m sure it is), but I’ve noticed lately that my neck is sore. Of course that’s not from my watch. I haven’t had it long enough. But it is due to my addiction to Instagram. The important point here is that I’m highly susceptible to things that buzz and beep. As if the world is about to end if I don’t look at the nearest screen. Perhaps it’s an age thing. No, I’m not terribly lonely and isolated. I have friends and a wonderful husband. But I am a bit of Yenta. I want to know what’s going on in the world. I want to know what I need to know, even if I don’t need to know it. Am I alone in this obsession? I think not. After all, our world has been monetized. I dare you to cancel your internet service. Do so at your own risk. How will we ever schedule a doctor’s appointment? Book a flight for a vacation? Check our bank balance? Pay our bills! Surely no one writes a check anymore (hand up: I do!). It’s no wonder my neck hurts from constantly looking down. Marie Antoinette has nothing on me.
And Now for Something a Little Extra!
The good news is that my latest novel, Friends for A Season, is doing well. If you haven’t checked it out, please do. Here’s the link. In celebration, this month alone, I’m providing an excerpt from my award-winning debut novel, The Intersect. It’s a character-driven story that will leave you guessing about what happens next to this diverse set of strangers as their lives cross. Click here to grab the excerpt. And until we next meet, have a fantastic September!
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