“Russ, do you need a headset?” Dan Lee, king of all things technoid at The World asked me today. I had ventured into his domain to turn in my cellphone as part of a change in carriers.

A vision of a headset crept into my head. It looked something like this:

“Sure,” I said, thinking about how it’s illegal now to talk on your phone while driving, unless you have a hands-free set.

Lee gave me a box. It had a picture of a 20-something, prematurely graying guy with a device attached to his head. The device kinda looks like this one:

(My wife later gives me some advice: “Don’t wear it in the grocery store.” My son says: “Oh, so you’re going to be one THOSE people.” Sigh.)

While Jared, one of Dan’s tech minions, messed with my phone, I looked at the old Mac computer with a tiny screen in Dan’s department. It was on a shelf, ready to be used as a bookend.
I felt a pang for the good old days as a night cops reporter when cell phones were the size of your forearm and weighed as much as my laptop.

You could jam one of these babies into the back pocket of your jeans and, sure the pocket would eventually give out. But with a strong belt, it stayed there just fine through months of wear.
I wonder how my ear will fare with this new headset.

Oh well: One to beam up.