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“I haven’t been this excited about a technological breakthrough since they invented the dish scrubber with the washing-up liquid inside it…”

Until quite recently, I was very pernickety about punctuality. Your punctuality. If you were five minutes late to meet me in a cafe or a bar, I’d be strumming my fingers on the tabletop when you arrived. Ten minutes and I’d be shooting you the old stink eye. Twenty minutes or more and I’d have prepared a short monologue in which I outlined all your deficiencies as a friend and a human being. Yeah, I was kind of a hard ass. So have I mellowed in my old age? Have I learned to stop and smell the flowers? Have I in my hole. No, someone gave me an iPhone for my birthday. I’m not sure if you’ve heard about these things. I had myself only the haziest conception of what they do. Basically, it’s a mobile phone you can use to surf the internet. I’ll repeat that. It’s a mobile phone you can use to surf the internet.

Holy crap, I haven’t been this excited about a technological breakthrough since they invented the dish scrubber with washing-up liquid inside it. And this is about forty million times more exciting! So take your time, my tardy friends. The only caveat is that, when you get here, you’d better be at least interesting as the internet. Because otherwise, buddy, you’re just dead weight to me.

The emergence of these new technologies constantly alters the paradigm in which we all exist. And there’s no point looking to the older generation for guidance. My late father’s most profound rumination on the subject of technology came during the six o’clock news one evening. “I’ll say one thing for these paedophiles,” he said. “They’re great with computers. Jesus, I can barely send an email!”

There’s no opting out either. The other day I bumped into a friend who refuses to buy a mobile phone. What are you doing Saturday? he asked. I shrugged. He wanted me to join him for a drink. He’d be in Mulligans, he said. Then Grogans. Then The Cobblestone. If he went anywhere else, he’d leave a message with one of the barmen on the way. I didn’t mince words. What planet are you living on, I asked? This ain’t Treasure Hunt. I ain’t Anneka Rice. We never did catch up for that drink.

Facebook is another baffling phenomenon. The other day, it suggested I make Facebook friends with a girl I’ve known since we were four years old. We went to school together and have some 52 Facebook friends in common, apparently. Well, I was all set press Add until a disturbing thought struck me. If this girl was being suggested as my potential friend, I figured, then I was very likely also being suggested as a friend to her. I hadn’t logged into my account in over a week.

What the hell, did she think she was too good for me? That stuck up bitch- I never liked her! Sufficed to say, I didn’t click Add. And the next time I see her, I’m giving her the stink eye to end all stink eyes. Yeah, I’m a little rusty. But it’s coming out of retirement for the occasion. You mark my words!