So, here's my admission. Brace yourself. Before this week, I had never owned a "smart phone." Sure, my Motorola Razr was kind of smart -- like a toddler who knows his ABCs and basic math before entering preschool -- but not as smart as the iPhones, BlackBerrys and such that everyone but me seemed to be toting around.

Over the Thanksgiving holiday, I took the leap. I bought a Palm. It's new, it's hip, it's slim and it's relatively affordable compared to the rest of the options offered by my wireless provider, which will remain nameless due to our protracted, tumultuous relationship (that I hope is on the mend).

E-mail, Web surfing, scheduling -- all at my fingertips. In the elevator; on the sidewalk; in a meeting; during a cross-town commute; on the elliptical machine at the gym. I have realized in the past couple of days what many have known for some time -- the euphoria of being "connected" wherever and whenever you want.

I consider myself an insanely productive person and this can only add to my efficiency. That said, the obligation of always being reachable might interfere with the non-work components of my life. I guess that's why the device has this novel "off" button. Plus, the tiny cramped keyboard might be murder on my fingers.

But, we'll see how it plays out … and if you e-mail me, you might just get a brief, sloppily typed response as I'm climbing the 200th floor on the stair-stepper at Washington Sports Club.