Telephones
Back in the 70s, a friend told me recently, his brother went to work in Canada for six months. He needed to get a phone installed and, being used to UK bureaucratic procedures, mentally steeled himself for the gruelling task ahead. Debating if it was even worth the effort as the waiting list for a home phone in UK at that time was 16 weeks, he placed the call. "Certainly sir" said the chirpy girl at the other end. "Are you sure one will be enough? And what colour would you like, black, white, blue or this month's special: avocado?" He ended up with three phones all in avocado and they installed them that afternoon. Of course, the story spread like wildfire when he phoned home with the news and it was all anyone in the street talked about for a fortnight. Sure the Brits were impressed with Canadian efficiency but there was also an underlying sense of disappointment. If it was that easy to get then where was the fun in having one?
It made me think back to our first phone. Also avocado. I was about twelve years old. There weren't enough lines available to keep up with the demand so for years we had a party line. That sounds pretty cheery but it just meant that we shared a line with a neighbour. If she was using the phone then we couldn't and vice versa. It also meant you could listen in on her conversations but as dying of boredom would be the price you'd pay for that sin we never bothered.
Yesterday I went out to the shops (a two minute walk away) and half way there realised I hadn't brought my phone. I was about to go back and get it when I thought, "Duh! it wasn't so long ago that I didn't own a mobile phone. I managed perfectly well without one for years why do I feel lost without one now?" I lived in Africa and didn't touch a phone of any sort for two years. I lived in Borneo and could only get enough of a mobile signal to send even a text message by standing outside the staff toilets of the local primary school and leaning over the verandah as I pressed 'send'. And yet I have become addicted to the dubious thrill of being constantly contactable. It's not like I get regular calls from Brad Pitt (sigh) so I can only assume it's a type of modern day vanity. We all think we're so important.
Any other theories?
Tell me your telephone stories.
It made me think back to our first phone. Also avocado. I was about twelve years old. There weren't enough lines available to keep up with the demand so for years we had a party line. That sounds pretty cheery but it just meant that we shared a line with a neighbour. If she was using the phone then we couldn't and vice versa. It also meant you could listen in on her conversations but as dying of boredom would be the price you'd pay for that sin we never bothered.
Yesterday I went out to the shops (a two minute walk away) and half way there realised I hadn't brought my phone. I was about to go back and get it when I thought, "Duh! it wasn't so long ago that I didn't own a mobile phone. I managed perfectly well without one for years why do I feel lost without one now?" I lived in Africa and didn't touch a phone of any sort for two years. I lived in Borneo and could only get enough of a mobile signal to send even a text message by standing outside the staff toilets of the local primary school and leaning over the verandah as I pressed 'send'. And yet I have become addicted to the dubious thrill of being constantly contactable. It's not like I get regular calls from Brad Pitt (sigh) so I can only assume it's a type of modern day vanity. We all think we're so important.
Any other theories?
Tell me your telephone stories.
Labels: telephones
posted by Kay @ 2:27 PM
2 Comments:
At January 02, 2007 6:14 PM,
Anonymous said…
Mobile phones should be immobile and should NOT be taken off the counter at home. They then provide you with a kick when you get home, cos you see messages at your leisure, rather than getting them while you're in the loo at the shops or while driving.
I went to live in Bermuda. Got a phone connected, got no bills for ages, then got cut off. I went into the phone company - bills had been returned to sender, wrong address, and they 'DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO GET IN TOUCH WITH ME' to check my address.... Very British, that one.
At January 07, 2007 12:54 AM,
Anonymous said…
Last night my little sister Jillie asks if my fairly ancient Nokia was a work phone. "No" I said. I cannot be doing with carrying two phones or paying back my employer for private use. I would prefer to claim back my business calls from them (losing out on deal ).....then I remembered that I had been issued with a Blackberry in October, which of course has a telephone function. Earlier in the day I had returned to my office in County Hall after interviewing applicants for the Complaints Officer Post to find a post-it stuck on my pc screen. "Is your Blackberry working OK now Ruth?" from Alex the IT Manager......well how would I know, it is in my other handbag in my kitchen, seven miles away, no doubt with the wireless network swiched off, the root of my last query with IT. "Its no good to me" I said, "its stuck on Novembers emails, I have long since deleted them on my desk top. If it cannot act in a synchronised manner, then it is useless, well an expensive Calendar" Alex was so nice about the fact that the wireless network was switched off on the thing. There was not a tad of patronisation.
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