From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Tactile
My palms are sweating against the stiff, scratchy polyester of my work shirt as I watch the gas pump tick past a dollar fifteen, wondering if the global market fever is finally going to break us. I accidentally jolted the nozzle—my bad—nearly splashing my cargo pants, but I’m too distracted by the thought of my son begging for those slick, holographic Pokémon cards that cost a fortune for mere cardboard. I find myself humming that J-Lo song just to drown out the stress of these new wireless gadgets like Bluetooth and Wi-Fi that I can’t afford. It feels like I’m being left behind on the information superhighway, while everyone else is busy downloading music on Napster or clicking away at their tiny BlackBerry buttons.