My relationship with my phone is pretty interesting, pretty pretty pretty interesting. I used to always think phones with internet access and email capabilities were nothing short of completly absurd. And as fate would have it I'm actually entering this entry from my blackberry while laying in bed. How 'bout them apples. Anyway I guess I used to knock the advances in technology because I knew my parents would never let me get one and that every last one of my friends would. Well I was pretty accurate in that assumption. I didn't get my first blackberry until about two years ago. I have nothing bad to say about it. I mean its got it all. Good service, easily navigable, internet, email, text, and the new phenomenon of BBM, blackberry messanger. Without my phone however I might be a little lost in more ways then one. Along with all the high tech gizmo gadgets this phone has to offer, it also has those under the radar applications that just fully make the phone. Like a memo pad which I use quite frequently, navigation, which is great when your lost, and of course, who could forget the infamous blackberry game, brickbreaker. I can definitly think of a few classes that were spent mastering that game. All in all my relationship with my phone is a good one. It helps me out and does for me all it could. On the other hand my phone can be a burden. Always having to remember to charge it, making sure it doesn't get damaged and even worse, getting it lost. Things that add to my already horrible anxiety, which actually got semi releived via the legal prescription of klonopin. All that looking after the phone underratedly takes a lot more effort then it seems. But there it is; my feelings; my friend, my foe, my phone.

I remember walking through the makeshift gates, handing my flimsy ticket to the senior citizen of an usher. We were in, it was Allman Brothers time. Maybe I was a little too young to appreciate the sights, the atmosphere, and more importantly the smells; but I was as big of a fan as any fourteen year old could be. The opening band was moe a band that now is atop my favorites list. They were a great band, but I couldnt sing along because i wasnt too fimiliar. Moe finished, took their bows and went on there way. The intermission felt like forever. So me and my buddy went wondering through the crowds of people on the grass, yes both meanings, looking to make some purchases to help better enjoy the show. We were young, unknowledged and axiety ridden. The moment right before walking up to someone was like getting caugh red-handed stealing from your parents medicine cabinet, you dont know what to expect. The first two people we spoke to coudnt help us out. Third times a charm though and we were set. We went back to our spot, fixed us a few homemade cigarettes and watched in awe as Gregg Allman belted out the bands opender, Hot 'Lanta.

My grandfather's father, Morris, was such a constant influence on my fathers life. So much so, he used the first letter of his name to name his first born son, me, Matthew. Im not quite sure how my parents chose the name after they were set on the first letter. I guess i've never wondered enough to investigate. Until that day im going to have to use imagination.