more than just talk (lyn)

Around 1975 or so, call forwarding was invented.  I no longer had to stay home in fear of missing HIS call (whomever HE was at the time).  I was living in Chicago then, and remember how freeing it was to have my phone calls follow me to my friends’ homes.

Then, in 1983, I spent $250 for a big clunky answering machine, replete with a small rubber donut-shaped accessory.  When I left home, I would bring along the rubber donut.  By squeezing it near any phone’s mouthpiece, I could playback my messages.

And now of course we have the ubiquitous cell phone.  Mostly I can reach my friends and family whenever I want.  But another benefit is that I get to experience their lives in real time. 

When I talk to someone on their cell, they could be anywhere.  And often, I don’t know where they are until something happens that makes their destination known.  It could be the sound of another phone ringing that pinpoints them at home, or the loud clanking of dishes as they unload the dishwasher or prepare dinner.  Or maybe it’s the sound of cars whizzing by that tells me they are driving (if it’s a friend in another city) or walking (if it’s a local friend).  Or, maybe it’s the conversation that interrupts the one we are having.

“I can get off at this corner.”

“C’meer sweetie.  Lie down.  I’ll be off soon.”

“Do you have this in a smaller size?”

“So now we have to pay $800 in taxes…”

“No, you can put it all in one bag.”

“What the f**k are you doing?  C’mon mister, move it.” 

While I may be at home, vicariously I can ride in a cab, hang out with a dog, clothes shop, talk to someone else on another line entirely, buy groceries or drive in traffic.

I often feel like I’ve done so much more than talk by the time I hang up.