My wife is on her third iPhone 4 in six days.

The first one had a hardware and software failure.

The second one sounded like an old timey cotton gin. It was so loud she held it up to our landline at home when she was on the phone with Apple support and they urged her to bring it in. Immediately.

The third one? We’ll see.

The worst part is that she holds me responsible. Because I’ve had one for a year and like Apple, she assumes that I might have hand built these defective iPhones. She’ll call me in the middle of the day and say, “Guess where I am, the Apple store.” Then she’ll get a new iPhone and shake her head at home. Thanks Steve Jobs.

Experiences like this have probably jaded me a little about technology and all the advances in convenience and awesomeness we’re supposed to have reaped. (Although we still don’t have Back to the Future hoverboards.) That’s probably why when someone sent me something crazy that churches are starting to do, I got worried.

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Life is like a hurricane, here in Duckburg.

Race cars, lasers, aeroplanes, it’s a duck-blur.

Might solve a mystery or rewrite history …

If you grew up like I did, you know the next words that to gem of a song. It’s “DuckTales, ooohhh, ooohhh.” That’s the chorus to the show DuckTales. My wife bought volume 1&2 on DVD for the move up to Franklin, Tennessee and my kids have loved them. And why shouldn’t they? That song is the jam. I hope someday that Timbaland and Justin Timberlake will do a remix. Maybe even throw in Ludacris. He makes his own cognac now, how easy would that be to rhyme with the word, “Quack.” (Sippin on Luda cognac, while my books Huey, Duey and Louie say, “Quack, quack.” Phresh!)

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