SAYING GOOD BYE TO THE LAND LINE
Back in the fall, I did something that I thought I would NEVER do. I cancelled my land line.
I'm going to admit it. I've been a hold out on the whole "get rid of your land line" movement.
I am not sure why.
I can not explain it.
There is no rationalization for my holding out on this.
I suppose I could make a case that I grew up in the era of phones attached to walls wherein you had to stretch that cord as far down the hall toward the bathroom as it would go (for a little privacy) before your mom or dad hollered that you were going to ruin the whole phone ... that dialing was an actual THING and not just a figure of speech ... that I knew people that still had party lines ... and that I remember when you didn't have to use the three-digit city exchange number before you dialed the four-digit number to your friend's/cousin's/grandparents' house.
I suppose you can make that case, but I will be the first to tell you that it'd be a flimsy case. A very flimsy case.
Truth be told, I just got to the point where paying $35 every month for a handful of calls just didn't seem very cost-effective.
So, I pulled the plug.
You know what? I've never looked back.
Yes, my childhood history with phones now resides in the annals of history ... and the local flea malls and antique stores and in the Smithsonian. Sadly, much of my childhood is now in the Smithsonian.
Times change. I suppose I was just trying to put off the inevitable which makes me think ... that is a sign of an old fart ... someone who holds the inevitable changes off until the very last minute ...
So, I'm an old fart.
I'm going to admit it. I've been a hold out on the whole "get rid of your land line" movement.
I am not sure why.
I can not explain it.
There is no rationalization for my holding out on this.
I suppose I could make a case that I grew up in the era of phones attached to walls wherein you had to stretch that cord as far down the hall toward the bathroom as it would go (for a little privacy) before your mom or dad hollered that you were going to ruin the whole phone ... that dialing was an actual THING and not just a figure of speech ... that I knew people that still had party lines ... and that I remember when you didn't have to use the three-digit city exchange number before you dialed the four-digit number to your friend's/cousin's/grandparents' house.
I suppose you can make that case, but I will be the first to tell you that it'd be a flimsy case. A very flimsy case.
Truth be told, I just got to the point where paying $35 every month for a handful of calls just didn't seem very cost-effective.
So, I pulled the plug.
You know what? I've never looked back.
Yes, my childhood history with phones now resides in the annals of history ... and the local flea malls and antique stores and in the Smithsonian. Sadly, much of my childhood is now in the Smithsonian.
Times change. I suppose I was just trying to put off the inevitable which makes me think ... that is a sign of an old fart ... someone who holds the inevitable changes off until the very last minute ...
So, I'm an old fart.
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