In a time when I didn't have a cell phone on me all the time (eleven years ago, to be exact), I remembered a lot of people's phone numbers. Even when we had to start dialing the area codes, it was easy because all of my friends lived in the 281-area. Speed dial slowly came into my life, as did cell phones, and now I'm here with the following situation: I know my office's number, the Traffic Tip Hotline, various dispatchers' numbers, and my parents' home number off the top of my head. In regards to my friends, co-workers, sister, and the rest of my family, I don't have a clue what their digits are. Why? Because they're all stored in my speed dial on my cell phone. There was a certain flow to remembering people's seven- or nine-digit number. That flow could be annoying at times, but if there was an emergency, I'd know exactly what to do. Now I'd be up a creek if my cell phone went dead. It's strange how much faith we put into these small el...