For a wee while now, you could get your parking spot via SMS here: after you parked the car, you can TXT-n-Park. I dread this, just as I dreaded ATMs. I like my conversation with the bank tellers, and it was as a result of that that I got speaking gigs with that bank, at its regional office, too.
   This technology may be a conversation-creator (e.g. email, this blog), but I frown upon it when it becomes a conversation-killer. You never know whom you can meet if you ask for change for your parking. But SMSing your kettle? How much time is one really saving, and can you be sure the thing has water inside? What if you were across town when you did this? And if you are in the next room, get off your ass.
   Still, it may promote conversation: with the fireman who puts out the blaze in the kitchen when the element starts a fire because you were too lazy to check the water level. To think: that’s one big, new group of people.