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Apple iPhone

Why can't we unplug on vacation?

The placid ocean shimmered in the evening sun. Undulating ribbons of foam-kissed waves gently petted the shore. Long fingers of color — moss green, marine gray, midnight blue — softly vibrated across the surface like rippling beach chair fabric. As a laughing gull soared silently above, a 40-something, bikini-clad woman — tall and tan and middle-aged and lovely — came ambling by ... texting … tap, tap, tapping … staring at her iPhone. And nature gently wept. OK. Forgive my tortured prose, but you get the idea. This woman's violation of my summer reverie really bothered me. Here I was with my wife on an almost deserted beach in glorious Sea Isle City,...