Kitty Korner   Cat logic in a computerized age   When I get
upset, Gatito gets concerned. He hops up on my lap and purrs
loudly, trying to cure whatever human frustrations have made me
lose my cool. The other afternoon, it was the home mortgage. I
wanted to speak with someone about it and maybe change the due
date. So, I put in a call to the financial institution where the
mortgage is faithfully–although sometimes painfully–paid each
month.  A robotic voice welcomed me and offered a menu of
choices. “If you want da…da…da, press 1. If you want da…da…do,
press 2. And this went on for what seemed like more numbers than
there are in the national debt. By the time I had listened to it
all, my ear was numb and I had almost forgotten why I called in
the first place. Indeed, if I hadn’t eaten before placing the
call, I likely would have starved to death while listening to
the long litany.  None of the selections were what I needed
anyway. So, I shouted “representative” into the phone. The
robotic voice said the selec