My palm pilot has a very discreet little camera on it. This is handy because it means that when Grandma is telling a story I can record her without her feeling self-conscious. This is great, except when said palm pilot freezes dumping ten minutes of really interesting stuff about the school wagon she rode. I can tell you that it was a wagon with an oil cloth top, two horses and that, in good weather, the boys had to get out and walk at the hills to make it easier on the horses, but it’s just not the same.