My friend called me the first day we became "hands free."

"I avost cost n agsidend!" he said.

"What?" I replied.

I heard him speaking again from underwater, "N agsidend! I ast cost un cuzuv m bootoov!"

As I hung up, tore my "hands free" device from my ear and threw it at the dashboard, I almost caused an accident. I pulled over to call him back. He explained that he had called to tell me that he almost caused an accident because of his "hands free" device.

Because of my anger at having to merge back into freeway traffic after stopping to hear my friend, I almost caused an "agsidend."

I saw in my mind the state Legislature and the governator proudly slapping each other on the back after signing the legislation that would save so many lives. (Do we have a budget yet?)

Don't they remember the excellent driver's training courses we took as teenagers, where we learned to drive a stick shift while holding a Big Gulp (no cup holders back then), changing our cassettes and watching for cops? No "hands free" devices back then, if I recall correctly.

Let me tally the ways my driving has improved by trying to keep the "hands free" device from falling out of my ear, or from reaching to grab it off the passenger's-side floorboard after an unsuccessful attempt at catching it.

I wonder if our lawmakers considered that holding the phone to your ear while driving is the easy part. Last I saw, my "hands free" device did not make the call for me. It also does not tell me who is calling, so I still have to pick up my phone to look at the incoming number.

Maybe the great state of California should tell me the foods that are safe to eat while driving or tell me I should not reach down to change my radio station.

Last I checked, my "hands free" device did none of this for me.

Since July 1, with my "hands free" device in my ear, I have almost caused accidents while staring in disbelief at the drivers next to me who were applying makeup, shaving and even reading a newspaper (probably this one) while driving.

Why did my "hands free" device not warn me about rubbernecking at someone changing a tire at the side of the road while traffic in front of me came to a stop to do the same thing? Maybe the "hands free" devices should be equipped with a brake-light warning device so we can avoid these very types of accidents.

The other day, I had to turn down the volume of that sexy British voice on my GPS system so that I could make out what my client was trying to tell me through my "hands free" device. After the phone call I realized that my GPS had tried several times to recalculate where I was, and I decided to punch in the new coordinates of my next stop and come back later to the place I passed up several miles back.

While performing this task on Interstate 5, my "hands free" device fell from my ear and this time landed under the gas pedal. Having to take my foot off the gas to reach underneath, my foot accidentally rested on the brake pedal, slowing me down exponentially and causing me to bump my ear (the same ear that holds my "hands free" device) on the steering wheel.

I sat back up and found my left ear was too swollen for the "hands free" device. As I was twisting the earpiece to now fit into my right ear and reaching into my lunch bag for the ice pack, I saw that many empathetic drivers (having obviously encountered similar situations) were now staring at me instead of the road and extending to me the finger of understanding. Evidently, their "hands free" device does not do this for them.

This all just happened a few minutes ago, and since I already had my laptop out on the passenger seat and my wireless card plugged in, I decided to log on to Sacbee.com to write this letter to share my story. It looks like traffic may be slowing ahead, so I had better keep one eye on the road and get back to RSVPing to my 20-year reunion with my other – yet another thing my "hands free" device does not do for me.

Kevin Miller lives in Rocklin. In his work as a sales manager he travels through all states west of the Mississippi, which allows him to hold his cell phone in his hand almost almost everywhere he goes.