I have details of my appointment with Death.

According to Death Clock, it is 18 Feb 2051, 9 days short of my 92nd birthday and 8 years short of receiving a congratulatory hologram from the President. Still, it"s a good innings. The details required for the calculation are so few (DoB, Gender, BMI, Smoker/Non-smoker and Optimist/Pessimist/Sadist) that my less-than-svelte, non-smoking, 47-year old biology must be relying on Optimism for such longevity.

I am an optimist and therefore eschew complaining. But just let me get one in – consider it the reformed moaner"s autumnal equivalent of a Hamlet cigar at Christmas. It"s this.

Nobody I know would blatantly read over your shoulder or shame-facedly examine the content of something you were writing by hand. However, many people, of all ages, seem to think it permissible to read the contents of your screen while purportedly talking or even listening to you. Is it because it looks kind of like a TV and you wouldn"t feel weird looking at the TV in someone else"s house? Perhaps it"s time to grace the taskbar with an ever-ready mp3 of de Niro"s Taxi Driver voice inquiring, "Are you looking at me?”

That"s it for this year – Meldrew moment over. Is it just me? Any thoughts?

Categories: Digital Literacy, Health