Address Book

The holidays prove how mobile society is, both in terms of geography and personal relationships. I was reminded of that the other day as I got out my address book intending to send out Christmas cards, something I haven't done in several years. The cards never were sent, but the trip through the little book's pages stirred up all sorts of memories. First, there was my return address written on the flyleaf. I haven't lived there in over 10 years; three, or is it four, moves have occurred since then.

Face it: each palm- sized page a meeting made - struck out - renewed. Turned to words, numbered stand-ins remarking attitudes. Inside crane-winged boards lodge chains of contacts, trails grown colder, faint impressions. More lost now than found I back up looking at your likeness and hit wall. Randall Couch teaches poetry at Arcadia University and practices experience design for Penn's Office of Information Systems and Computing.

YOU WOULD think that after all we've done for Paris Hilton (the constant publicity, the lobbying for an internship) that Tattle would at least get a prominent listing in her address book. But no. Probably just as well because now we'd have to change our phone number and e-mail. The hot buzz on the Internet over the weekend was the alleged hacking of Paris's T-Mobile address book and the various sites that published the book with all 510 contacts. Yes, it's possible that the whole thing is an elaborate practical joke, but the celebs who got early-morning wake-up calls didn't seem too amused.

The address book my daughters presented to me one long-ago Mother's Day was always kept in the kitchen, an arm's length away from the phone. It was a household workhorse for years, a chronicle of the names and phone numbers of everyone important - enduringly or briefly - in my life. But several years ago, the sassy felt flower on its cover disappeared, unmoored pages drifted away, and coffee stains blurred addresses. Not even my sentimental attachment could justify trying to use it. And that's when I made a vow: At the dawning of each even-numbered new year, I'd buy a new address book.

By Susan FitzGerald I start my Christmas cards early because it's my annual chance to spend time with my address book. This year, when I pulled out the tattered book, I calculated its age as almost 39. The address book was a high school graduation gift, and at the time I marveled at how cool it was. Forget traditional brown: My book was pinkish-red, skinny, and a foot long. Paging through the book is like revisiting key moments of my life. Even the handwriting speaks to various stages.

The name Marv Albert was found in a black book kept by a dominatrix who was shot to death in her apartment, and police sources told WNBC-TV yesterday that the entry apparently refers to the sportscaster. NBC's leading basketball play-by-play man is charged in Virginia with biting a woman and forcing her to perform oral sex. Albert denies the charges. Spokesman Howard Rubenstein said Albert's attorney, Roy Black, has instructed his client and his representatives not to comment on anything related to the case.

When Edward Haase, a free-lance journalist from Kansas City, Mo., returned from a 2 1/2-month trip to Nicaragua in January 1985, officials of the U.S. Customs gave him quite a grilling. Not only did they question Mr. Haase for four hours about his travels, but they also seized pamphlets put out by the Sandinista government as well as Haase's personal address book and field notes. Customs photocopied everything and turned over the materials to the FBI. That's an isolated, if unfortunate, lapse in judgment, a federal judge in Washington declared.

For 74-year-old Barbara Jones, Christmas came early this year in the form of a man named Richard Dooley. Dooley came to Jones' rescue after she lost a tote bag containing more than $22,000 in rings, money and other valuables near her son's home in the Holmesburg section of the city. Stricken in September with a possible slight stroke that affected her left arm, Jones arrived in Philadelphia last Saturday from her home near Kissimmee, Fla., to undergo medical tests. With her was her husband, Harold, 83, a retired Philadelphia police officer.

I lost Sue last night. At least Carol replied to my e-mail to let me know that her company will be closing down her branch office. I tapped out, "Good luck, Carol," clicked on "Send Message" and so ended all our years of business communication. Now I can open my computer address book and give Carol's e-mail address a proper burial, or at least a proper Delete. But Sue is another story. When I sent her an e-mail, the "Delivery Failed" message popped up on my screen. Now, I wonder why Sue's e-mail address has disappeared from the Internet.

Smartphone applications can ease the business of trading contact information with new acquaintances and facilitate on-the-fly video conferences, thus enhancing your social-networking capabilities. Bump , from Bump Technologies Inc., is a free app for iPhone and Android that passes contact information or photos from one smart device to another by, yes, bumping them together. The move does not depend on both parties having the same type of phone, and it looks magical. What happens is that both devices communicate with Bump Technologies' cloud servers, which detect the smartphones' locations and their simultaneous "bump" to make an educated guess that the devices are trying to contact each other.

By Susan FitzGerald I start my Christmas cards early because it's my annual chance to spend time with my address book. This year, when I pulled out the tattered book, I calculated its age as almost 39. The address book was a high school graduation gift, and at the time I marveled at how cool it was. Forget traditional brown: My book was pinkish-red, skinny, and a foot long. Paging through the book is like revisiting key moments of my life. Even the handwriting speaks to various stages.

Smartphone applications can ease the business of trading contact information with new acquaintances and facilitate on-the-fly video conferences, thus enhancing your social-networking capabilities. Bump , from Bump Technologies Inc., is a free app for iPhone and Android that passes contact information or photos from one smart device to another by, yes, bumping them together. The move does not depend on both parties having the same type of phone, and it looks magical. What happens is that both devices communicate with Bump Technologies' cloud servers, which detect the smartphones' locations and their simultaneous "bump" to make an educated guess that the devices are trying to contact each other.

Smartphone applications can ease the business of trading contact information with new acquaintances and facilitate on-the-fly video conferences, thus enhancing your social-networking capabilities. Bump , from Bump Technologies Inc., is a free app for iPhone and Android that passes contact information or photos from one smart device to another by, yes, bumping them together. The move does not depend on both parties having the same type of phone, and it looks magical. What happens is that both devices communicate with Bump Technologies' cloud servers, which detect the smartphones' locations and their simultaneous "bump" to make an educated guess that the devices are trying to contact each other.

The address book my daughters presented to me one long-ago Mother's Day was always kept in the kitchen, an arm's length away from the phone. It was a household workhorse for years, a chronicle of the names and phone numbers of everyone important - enduringly or briefly - in my life. But several years ago, the sassy felt flower on its cover disappeared, unmoored pages drifted away, and coffee stains blurred addresses. Not even my sentimental attachment could justify trying to use it. And that's when I made a vow: At the dawning of each even-numbered new year, I'd buy a new address book.

I lost Sue last night. At least Carol replied to my e-mail to let me know that her company will be closing down her branch office. I tapped out, "Good luck, Carol," clicked on "Send Message" and so ended all our years of business communication. Now I can open my computer address book and give Carol's e-mail address a proper burial, or at least a proper Delete. But Sue is another story. When I sent her an e-mail, the "Delivery Failed" message popped up on my screen. Now, I wonder why Sue's e-mail address has disappeared from the Internet.

YOU WOULD think that after all we've done for Paris Hilton (the constant publicity, the lobbying for an internship) that Tattle would at least get a prominent listing in her address book. But no. Probably just as well because now we'd have to change our phone number and e-mail. The hot buzz on the Internet over the weekend was the alleged hacking of Paris's T-Mobile address book and the various sites that published the book with all 510 contacts. Yes, it's possible that the whole thing is an elaborate practical joke, but the celebs who got early-morning wake-up calls didn't seem too amused.

Face it: each palm- sized page a meeting made - struck out - renewed. Turned to words, numbered stand-ins remarking attitudes. Inside crane-winged boards lodge chains of contacts, trails grown colder, faint impressions. More lost now than found I back up looking at your likeness and hit wall. Randall Couch teaches poetry at Arcadia University and practices experience design for Penn's Office of Information Systems and Computing.

The name Marv Albert was found in a black book kept by a dominatrix who was shot to death in her apartment, and police sources told WNBC-TV yesterday that the entry apparently refers to the sportscaster. NBC's leading basketball play-by-play man is charged in Virginia with biting a woman and forcing her to perform oral sex. Albert denies the charges. Spokesman Howard Rubenstein said Albert's attorney, Roy Black, has instructed his client and his representatives not to comment on anything related to the case.

Computer manufacturers produce more than just hardware. Each new wave of computer technology leaves behind it mounds of unused and outmoded parts - in essence, waste. Many companies store their waste in landfills. Some incinerate it. But Leo A. Gotleib has found a way to recycle some of it. His fledgling Cherry Hill company, Compu-Notes Inc., is buying unwanted computer circuit boards and turning them into non-computer consumer products ranging from clipboards to three-ring binders.

The conditions of a solitary bird are five: The first, that it point its beak skyward; The second, that it fly to the highest point; The third, that it does not suffer for company, not even of its own kind; The fourth, that it sings very softly; The fifth, that it has no definite color. Lenny Wilkens flipped open the address book on his desk and the poem was right there, an old friend paper-clipped among the exclusive list of people and things he chooses to keep.