The
Old Coot is tripping out.
By
Merlin Lessler
I
had a flash-back moment the other day, as I came in the back door. I looked
across the kitchen to the corner of the room into the telephone nook to see if
the answering machine was blinking. But there is no answering machine in the
nook. Or a phone, for that matter. What was I thinking? An old instinct kicked
in. It was fun to re-experience the thrill of coming home in the pre-cell phone
era, wondering if someone called and left a message. The red light on the
answering machine was like a beacon in a lighthouse, flashing a signal, “YOU
HAD A CALL!” Rapid blinks meant you had several calls. WHO? WHY? WHAT’S GOING
ON?
Such
a different world. We had more patience; we didn’t expect instant contact,
instant feedback. A nicer world, I think. You had time to think before you
replied, to mull over your answer. “What should we say to Joe? He’s upset, but
has a right to be. How can we bring him down, gently?” Lies could be invented if necessary; we call
them fibs when we execute these social untruths. “I don’t want to go to their house
Sunday night. How can we get out of it?” You had time to conjure up an excuse,
or create a conflict.
We
were nicer, on the surface anyhow. And freer to escape doing things or going
places we rather not. We had time to come up with an alternative plan. And,
more important, time to calm down before tossing out a knee-jerk reaction to a
phone message. Time to re-listen to the message to be sure you got it right.
And think.
Don’t
get me wrong, I like my smart phone and all the things it can do for me. But
still, I miss that old world, where communication was more thoughtful and ran
at a slower pace. And, I especially miss coming home to a blinking light. Signaling
a mystery. Soon be solved.
Comments?
Complaints? Send to mlessler7@gmail.com
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