LUNCH HOUR

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There's a little park downtown that's anchored at one end by the MacArthur Memorial, and at the other by The Hot Dog Man. And there's a complex sculptural blocky fountain thing running down the center of it that more often than not is missing one ingredient: water. That aside, it's a pleasant place to spend your lunchtime, although why someone would want to spend it on their cell phone is beyond me. In my book, it's in the same ballpark as someone lugging out their IBM Selectric typewriter. Our only hope as a society is that they'll find that cell phones have been irradiating our hapless brains with some mutant cloud of hopping-mad electrons or other. Who in the world (let alone in Norfolk) is so damned important that they can't spend a half hour in peace (and allow the rest of us the same courtesy, so we don't have to learn that Brandi isn't pulling her own weight and if she doesn't get her ducks in a row she's going to find herself down in Accounting.)