Tablet wale

I remember growing up in ancient India (an India before cell phones invaded common sense and no one knew what a slumdog millionaire was) the recycling center came to your doorstep. There was a guy that with a peculiar tone yelled out 'Dabba Batliwale' waking those denizens who might have hit snooze on their mechanical alarm clock too many times. His mission was to collect all manners of old metal and glass ware from the apartments in Mumbai (then also known simply as Bombay) and take them to a recycling station (we hope) for a quick profit. This ritual was our way of making some pocket money. We recycled my father's old beer bottles (the beer was fresh when consumed but the bottles were old and likely already recycled..who knows but I digress) along with other oil containers etc. Now the point of all this is that very soon we are going to be faced with new pieces of glass the way the planet is going and there are not enough methods in the market to collect the old stuff. What with the plethora of tablets being spit out by the Silicon Valley every week. Every one it seems must now have one. Whether its on 'Fire' or looks like 'Sad Berries' on the 'Surface' a 'Pad' in Hand is worth anything else in the bush it would appear. The human civilization is at a crucual 'Nexus' and time will tell how we handle these gadgets when we already have our hands full (with leaking kids, keys, wallets and all that shopping the wife just did at that mega mall). Thence we hope not to drop the Tablet (and not the ball) in the near future since ball is so passe and who ever carried a ball around anyway? Lets hope our dreams do not break into tiny pieces like Europe will.