A sigh for simpler times.

Every time I turn on the TV I hear about some new invention or computer program designed to help keep me connected or to give me the edge in the world today.

My question lately is, what's wrong with being DIS-connected?

When I was growing up, my "Nanny" was able to stay abreast of all sorts of information using a crazy invention called the telephone!

Get this, she would dial a number on the rotary dial... and that would connect her to an actual living soul!

There was no wondering how "Aint Snooks" meant her e-mail... if there was a problem, Nanny would actually hear it in Snooks' voice..

If a problem was detected, Nanny wouldn't order a gift online and have it sent with a personal message... she did the craziest thing... she would go to the kitchen and bake up the most heavenly apple pie and take it to Snooks, while the pie was still warm.

I've said before that I think our personal relationships have suffered as technology increased.

It's so easy to type out a quick e-mail... but aren't there times when each of us could use more than just "words" of encouragement?

Don't we all still yearn for an unscripted night of friends, games and a few pots of coffee?

I consider myself so incredibly lucky to have had a childhood in Waldron, Arkansas... the town that time forgot.

This time of year makes me miss my Papaw's produce stand.

Nanny and Papaw lived on East 80 just outside of Waldron..

East 80 was a pretty busy highway, so in his later years, Papaw ran a produce stand in the front yard.

I remember when Chuck, Donishia and I would stay with them, we'd be awakened by the aroma of bacon, biscuits and coffee around 5 in the morning.

Just before we sat at the table, the mouth watering scent of chocolate gravy beckoned us.

Nanny wanted to make sure we were up in time to help Papaw with the stand.

Once we finished breakfast, we'd walk out to the stand and rearrange the baskets and bushels of apples, okra, corn and every melon you could imagine.

When everything was situated, Papaw would raise the front flap on the stand and pull his sign out to the road.

I remember that there was a lot of waiting... which was fine because Papaw would pull the old metal lawn chairs out under the shade of the Mimosa tree.

We'd spend most of the day waving to strangers as they passed... Nanny would keep us stocked up on iced tea.

Ever so often, a rusty old car would pull up and some old woman would inspect the produce and then haggle with Papaw about the price.

By the end of the day, us kids were wore out... and just as we thought we couldn't go on... Papaw would tell one of us to go open the ice chest under the carport.

Unbeknown to us, he had put the best watermelon of the bunch into that chest... and it had been chilling all day.

He'd close up the stand... back up his truck... and slice that watermelon right on the tailgate!

Then, us kids would take a seat on that tailgate, feet swinging, and we'd eat that watermelon and spit out the seeds.

As hot and sticky as it was, I don't ever remember complaining. It was magical just sitting there watching the sun set... the air heavy with the sweet smell of Mimosa... as the summer breeze sparkled with the lights of a million lightning bugs.

Nanny and Papaw and even my brother Chuck are all gone now....

Those memories are so precious to me... I can't imagine trading that experience for anything.

And while we can't go back to that time... we can all take a break... unplug a bit.

Turn off your cell phone.

Unplug your blackberry.

Take a ride through the country and stop at a roadside produce stand.

Technology CAN make life easier... but what's the point if you're not living?