After a stressful summer of all work, no travel, I am aghast at the latest news that spas -- where we go to relax and get away from it all -- are now featuring wireless ya-ya-yahs. The eucalyptus is clearing my sinuses and calming my senses in the steam room when, in all her dripping nudeness, the woman next to me Blackberries? Oh, spa me the wired spa, puh-leeze!
This is not to say I'm not connected. Quiet the contrary. My Treo is at my left hand as I type on my laptop. Occasionally during meetings, I peer surreptitiously under the table at my email. I put my cell phone on vibrate and bury it in my pocket book during movies, should the son have an emergency, and I just paired my handsfree Bluetooth cell phone with my new car's navigation system.
But there are two safe havens -- the spa and the airplane -- and they are clearly no longer out of reach of the wireless rays. The women at my health club blithely ignore the big posters that beg "no cell phone use in the locker room." Even the airplane has been invaded, and I'm not talking about the yogurt-flinging children.
The airplane, believe it or not, is one place where I can truly get away from the office phones if I wish. And the spa, well, ommmmmm.... Smokers have been relegated to zones outside airports -- so why not laptop zones in spa parking lots? We have enough tuning in -- let's preserve these few havens for "tuning out."
