Are you talkin' to me?

No, of course not. That would involve speaking. With words. Out loud.

That's what I want to say to my kids almost every weekend when we take our trek into Cedar Rapids to go out to lunch and get groceries and do whatever it is we do to get some "family time" away from the computer and video games.

I remember as a child going into town with my parents -- or, more often, with my Mom because Dad was working -- and on the drive we'd listen to her radio station in the background while we talked. I don't remember a lot of the conversations because most of them, I'm sure, were my inane thoughts about life as an adolescent. But I do remember talking. And I remember loving that time with my family, when it was just us and everyone else was locked out of the world inside our car.

Now, with my kids, we make the 30-mile drive into Cedar Rapids with my radio station or CD playing -- and each of them with their MP3 players plugged into their ears. If I dare make a comment to either of them I get the rolled eyes and the "This better be important" look, which then makes me stop to rethink what I was going to say, to make it worth the interruption.

Don't get me wrong -- the kids and I do talk quite often. Once we get to our destination the music stops and we talk and laugh and have a good time. At home it's the same, we talk about our days and what's going on and what we want to do over the weekend or over the summer.

But in the car, it's their friends who have the advantage -- the kids keep their cell phones with them and usually on "vibrate" so they know when someone is trying to send them a message. THAT gets a response.