Paul McCain at Cyberbrethren has asked his readers to link to his post on the release of Concordia Publishing’s new edition of Concordia: The Lutheran Confessions. There’s a special discount offer and everything.

I don’t ordinarily pass on commercial offers, but McCain is a fan of my books and a publisher too, and hard experience has taught me to ingratiate myself with publishers at every opportunity, even if they’re not my publishers.

Which, when you think about it, most of them aren’t.

Item: I got a cell phone, finally. I had one once before, a pay-as-you-go thing that cost me far more than the value I got out of it, except for the putting at ease of my mind. This one ought to be more economical. I got it through a special program with AAA, one designed for people who mainly want a phone for emergencies. I pay just ten bucks a month, but I get no free minutes. Perfect for urban hermits. The slogan could be, “This phone could save your life, even though you obviously don’t have one!”

It’s a Nokia, a bare-bones model with a black-and-white display. Probably because of its lack of frills, it’s amazingly small (or seems so to me). It’s about the size of one of those old Zippo lighters from WWII, except a little taller. Clearly the near-disappearance of cigarettes from American life has created a spiritual vacuum, a need for a Zippo-sized object to carry around in our clothes. And behold, the moment has produced the object.

And no, you can’t have the number.

Unless you’re Sissel.

Or a publisher.