Say it isn't so. Pluto no longer a planet!

Did you hear the news that Pluto is no longer a planet? That's right. The scientific community has ruled that it doesn't qualify. So now there are only eight planets in our solar system instead of nine. I am sad. I liked Pluto. It was my favorite planet, I think because it was the little guy of the planets and also because of Walt Disney's Pluto, a terrific cartoon character. Jupiter, on the other hand, is huge, dwarfing Earth and making tiny Pluto look like a planetary pea. And now, scientists say Pluto can't be a planet at all because its oblong orbit overlaps with Neptune's, and the rule is that one planet cannot overlap another which seems like a silly rule to me. In Flagstaff, Arizona, the Lowell Observatory is most famous for having discovered the planet Pluto. But now all it can brag about is discovering a dwarf planet, which is the new classification for Pluto and some asteroids. Discovering a dwarf planet is no big deal.

Variety Stores

Maybe your grandmother shopped here. Maybe you did if you grew up in rural America. You don't find many variety stores anymore. And when you do, boards are likely nailed against the windows.

Wal-Mart is the new Variety Store. I suppose Mom and Pop stores like this could compete better in an age where there wasn't as much "variety" -- when there were three brands of toothpaste instead of six dozen like today.

Woolworth was a good variety store. It had its day. After awhile there got to be too much variety for even a big store like that.

Henry Ford doomed the Variety Store when he built his first Motel T car. Suddenly, people could drive a few miles to shop, spreading business around. When the roads got better, they could drive even farther. And if they didn't want to drive at all, Mr. Sears had his catalog. Main Street became less relevant. Then Sam Walton reasoned that people would drive 50 miles to save $10 on a toaster. And so he began building Wal-Marts, quickly outpacing competitor Kmart that, alas, had the corporate IQ of a chimp.

If you ever find a variety store like the one in this photo, and it is still operating, would you please stop in and ask the owner how things are going? Is business good? Or is it on its last legs? Please let me know.

Mike The Mover's motorhome

Mike The Mover owns an Edmonds, Wash., moving company. He also runs for local political offices, but he's never won. Most recently he ran for Washington state governor. In 1981, Mike legally changed his name to Mike The Mover so he'd get free advertising on voter ballots. To be clear about this, his middle name is "The." Mike owns this motorhome, which is called an Ultra Van. It was made a few decades ago. Not many are left. This one is painted up, so it doesn't resemble a rolling marshallow like the few dozen other surviving Ultra Vans, most painted white. Ultra Vans are gutless RVs, powered by tiny Corvair engines. I spotted Mike's parked next to the Washington State Ferry holding area in Edmonds, where motorists wait for a ride across Puget Sound to the Kitsap Peninsula. I bet it gets a lot of laughs from passengers waiting for a ride, and it's probably good for business, too.

Vacations No More

According to a survey by a New York executive search company, more and more Americans are continuing to work even when on vacation. The result is that they often return to the office more stressed than when they left for vacation. Laptops, e-mail and PDA technology coupled with cell phones and voice mail has created a virtual office environment easy to take with you from just about anywhere. And so, rather than a vacation being a refreshing respite from the day to day grind, people are working as they go, squeezing in a bit of play along the way.

The National Park Service recently reported that visitation is down in parks across the country. The reason: vacationers would rather play with technology than spend time with nature. I was in Yellowstone National Park two weeks ago. Inside the Visitor Center, a boy of about eight huddled in a corner playing with his hand-held Game Boy. One hundred yards away, Old Faithful was only minutes from erupting.

My daughter and I headed out to wait for the famous geyser to spout. A crowd of several hundred other tourists waited with us. Next to me, a man placed a call with his cell phone: "Guess where I am?" he asked. And then he talked a little business.

About 10 feet away, a jovial fellow surrounded by friends was asked why he didn't have his camera ready to photograph the geyser. "If I want a picture, I can get it off the Internet," he said.

I wrote recently of my new Verizon cell phone plan that allows me to connect with my computer anywhere Verizon provides service. In metropolitan areas, the connection it at broadband speed. In the boonies, it's still respectively fast -- about two to three times faster than dial up.

In Yellowstone, I parked outside a campground to see if I could get a cell connection. I was curious to learn if I would be able to get online if I camped there. Yup, not a problem. For me, RV travel is often part business, part vacation. So I need my computer. Years ago, when I pulled into a campground, I left the outside world behind. Now, if I want, I can bring it right inside with me. Is that necessary? Is that the way to enjoy a forest or seashore?

I was talking to my 15-year-old daughter today about this. "You know, Emily, if we were camped where there were no Internet access, if I asked you to sit by the campfire with me, you'd love to do it. But if you knew that you could stay inside the RV and get onto your MySpace account or chat with your buddies, I bet you would beg to stay in the motorhome." She smiled and nodded. Like me, she knows the lure of the Internet.

It's great that our new technology allows us such incredible freedom to stay in touch pretty much wherever we are. But we're paying a price for it, aren't we? We're losing our ability to simply relax, play. . . and let the world take care of itself for awhile.

That's not good.