(MB note: this is part of an occasional selection of random rants which I write that have absolutely nothing to do about the future. Enjoy.) 

It’s ten o’clock in the morning and I need a new cell phone. Exactly why I need a new phone today is another story, but suffice it to say that the fact that I’m driving to the store on a Sunday morning - that is, after Saturday night - is a relevant factor. ?Nuf said.

For years I’ve had the Luddite version of a mobile phone. It did a total of three things effectively: it made calls, it received calls and it dropped said calls in the middle of important conversations. Today, however, I’m taking the plunge and buying a full-fledged PDA. I’ve resisted getting a so-called “smart phone” for years, for a number of reasons. First, depending on my daily caffeine consumption, I have mild to moderate ADD. It’s bad enough that I exacerbate my condition by continuously running email, Yahoo messenger, Gmail and Skype in the background at the office (a practice which gives the impression that I have a larger social network than I actually do while simultaneously providing a never-ending source of excuses to be interrupted). In short, the last thing I need are new ways to be distracted.

Also, despite my delusions of grandeur, the reality is I’m not remotely important or interesting enough to need to be informed of email the nanosecond it arrives. It’s not exactly like I’m in charge of running a nuclear reactor or coordinating surface-to-air missile tests (and if I were, one would surely hope that I wouldn’t be checking email while doing so).

And most importantly, my venture into smart phone ownership means that I can no longer make snarky and disparaging remarks about the CrackBerry addicts who sit in meetings, ignoring the human life-forms in the their presence and squinting anxiously into a 2-inch screen. After today, I’ll be one of them. Like the Borg, I’ll be assimilated.

So it’s with a fair amount of trepidation that I find myself standing in the heart of the electronics department surrounded by dozens of cell phones, all of which are designed and marketed to reinforce the fact that despite a post-graduate degree and $50k in student loans, I will never, ever be as smart as the $7 worth of plastic that I now hold in my hand. I’m staring at a device which looks something like a cross between a computer, a television and a pedometer, but in fact bears absolutely no resemblance whatsoever to a telephone. Pete the sales guy explains that the phone in my hand is the latest engineering design in artificial intelligence. Based on some sort of NASA-quality algorithm, the phone allegedly uses “predictive inquiry” to anticipate my requests. Hmmm, I think, does that mean it’s about to ask if I want my Bloody Mary extra spicy?

Meanwhile, Pete is trying patiently to explain to me (again) the 12-step process needed to check the phone for messages, an act which apparently requires a feat of eye/hand coordination beyond my simple human abilities. Apparently the phone can simultaneously check email, keep track of appointments, update my contacts and remind me to get my oil changed. Here’s a question: if this phone is so damn smart why doesn’t it call voicemail for me? And when it’s done it could start on my taxes. For that matter, if it really wanted to show off it could teach my husband how to wash dishes.

Considering that each of the phones has enough processing power to light up a small Midwestern town, I realize that my purchasing decision boils down to style rather than substance. Today a mobile phone is less a communications device and more a lifestyle choice. Resisting the urge for some impromptu self-analysis, I search the shelves again with a view toward discovering my inner cell phone:

Motorola RAZR

With a name reminiscent of a foreign-born cover girl, the Motorola RAZR (and its BFF the KRZR) is the supermodel of the cell phone world. This is the phone for the South Beach crowd. All glam and Grey Goose, the RAZR is a testament to the importance of fashion over function.

BlackBerry Pearl

This phone is as good looking as it is intelligent. If this phone were a sweater, it would be silk. If it were a vegetable, it would be haricot vert. It’s the All-American phone, the kind that’s naturally, annoyingly good at almost everything. Like the cheerleader-valedictorian, it’s the phone you love to hate.

T-Mobile Dash

The name says it all. You’re busy, over-booked and more often than not, late for something. This is the phone for soccer moms, CPAs and other practical-minded people who don’t have time for extraneous details like remembering what kind of phone they have.

T-Mobile Sidekick

For those who always wanted their own entourage but couldn’t afford the trust fund to buy it. The Sidekick is all about The Scene. The Sidekick says you know who’s in, who’s out and who doesn’t even need to ask.

Palm Treo

A phone only a gadget geek could love, the Treo isn’t so much a phone as it is a measure of manliness. Like most things made for guys, it’s bigger than it needs to be and as the name suggests, is designed for your hand to play with.

LG Chocolate

A phone that taps into the most fundamental of human desires, the LG Chocolate is for those who appreciate the finer things in life, such as a phone that’s designed to look like a candy bar.This is for anyone who hungers for design and has a healthy appetite for aesthetics,because nothing says international sophisticate like a phone that’s part art, part aphrodisiac.

Finally, there’s the Samsung Blackjack. The new kid on the cell phone block, the Blackjack is the unknown maverick. Like its name implies, this the phone for those who laugh in the face of danger: bungee-jumpers, adventure-racers, tap-water drinkers. Personally, I think it speaks to my entrepreneurial sense of risk-taking. So in the end I roll the dice and place my bet on the Blackjack. I’ll let you know if I get lucky.