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There was a time I was a slave to my cellphone or, in the now unthinkable pre-cellphone era, my pager. When my phone rang or my beeper buzzed, and it was work on the other end, it was as if Pavlov had picked up a bell and started clanging it all over the room. I stopped in my tracks and knew what I had to do next: run to a television; call the newsdesk; forget whatever my plans were for the rest of the day; prepare myself for the next round of breaking news to come barreling into my relative calm. Because that was my job. 

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Image: by ka92