THE TELEPHONE --A COMING OF AGE STORY

Greetings Hairballers,

Got to thinking the other day about how telephones have been the bane of my existence--this after spending four and a half hours with AT&T straightening out the mess with my dumb smart phone.

It must be the magic number because when I was four years old, I climbed up on a chair, called the operator and asked to be put through to Buffalo Bob Smith in New York.  You see I was a loyal watcher of Hoody Doody and every day Buffalo Bob would say, “hi boys and girls,” and then wave to Susie, Billy, Mary, Johnny--but never said my name.  I was going to tell him off.  Fortunately my Mother arrived as the operator was trying to talk me down.  Mom explained that he made the names up and couldn’t actually see through the TV.  Wow, a preschooler and I’d already found out Buffalo Bob Smith was a liar.  I grew up fast.

THE TELEPHONE --A COMING OF AGE STORY©

         FMHorner

In the beginning,

mine not Mr. Bell’s,

there was the telephone

a black plastic blob

with a finger nail breaking dial

to make it go

a very short cord

tethered this ruler of all things

to the wall

ours was enthroned on the

kitchen counter

wedged between the wall and a toaster

it rang, you ran

that was the way of things,

everyone answered its shrill demands

then came divesture

Ma Bell busted for doing a good job,

the telephone was out from behind the toaster

consumers were free to buy phones

shaped like space ships, animals and,

my cousins’ favorite, a penis

they didn’t work and

somewhere there’s a landfill

heaped with these never-to-be decomposed objects

next came the sort of mobile phone,

a piece of technology the size of a brick

sporting a large antenna

ca ching, ca ching 

like riding a taxi

with the meter running

these didn’t last long as the manufacturer was

probably sued by the two people who owned them

for rotator cuff injuries

but an idea as born

people liked to have their phones with them

to hold them, to look at them, to adore them

the age of miniaturization was upon us

calling devices the size of a credit card

but still with limited minutes

these wonders would dial Tibet from

the inside of a purse

or Italy from the pocket over your butt

newer ones could take pictures

of our pets, children and

unsuspecting citizens

people walked the streets saying,

“what, I can’t hear you, did you

hang up on me? $#%& phone”

with the advent of the smart phone,

the land line is gong to way of   

the typewriter

companies compete for our business

by offering better plans

and more free minutes

we no longer have conversations

we text or tweet

instant information

our lives reduced to

mini sound bites

without the sound

yet, we can watch the game

or a movie by squinting at our phones

while the 92 inch flat screen gathers dust

Hairballs indeed.

f