Nevergirl’s

We all have creature comforts; here’s mine – I can’t live without a landline. And for some reason, a house doesn’t seem like a home to me without the sweet sound of a loud BRRRRINNNNGGG  echoing every now and then.

I know I’m attaching too much nostalgia to a REAL telephone but I can’t help myself. I can already see me sitting, phone tucked between shoulder and ear, howling in laughter at K’s recounting of her week, wiping the flour off my hands on a blue pintucked apron — okay, this part is purely imaginary and may have to stay that way because I can’t bake to save my life.

It’s not that mobile phones don’t kiss ass because they do. But a landline isn’t just a tool for keeping touch; it’s an experience.

A landline in the house means we all get to ask, “Who was it?” after someone picks up the phone. A landline in the house means actually getting frequent chatty calls from the province. And what of being able to intercept calls for other household members and keeping them on the line longer than the average welcome so you can grill them a little? Or actually being surprised by a call (a landline doesn’t tell you it’s Silvano, your landlord, calling)? Or getting to practice your best operator girl voice to callers one and sundry? Don’t roll your eyes at me. Those were good times.

So yes, I very emphatically told the husband I need a landline, a Globe landline so I can burn the lines with province-folks here and there. A landline is a landline — and maybe along with the landline, we can get us a cool number, too.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 24th, 2009 at 6:41 am and is filed under Strangeness she writes. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.