NUMBER, PLEASE

   I have a new cell phone.  To help me make the transition from the old one, my husband has given me a “tech guide for seniors.” (As if that is going to help!)  It even has “easy to follow large print.”  (I can read it, but I don’t understand what it is telling me.)

  I can receive calls.  I can answer them.  But, if I don’t answer when it rings, the phone won’t take a message.  I can tell this is going to be a real learning experience for me.  And, just to make it a little more interesting, we cancelled our landline service.

  When I was a child, I could pick up the phone receiver, put it to my ear, and the operator would say, “Number, please.”  I would then tell her the number I wanted to call.  My grandmother Nolan’s home number was 23. Our home number was 59.  My friend Jean’s number was 169.

  One day, when a friend was visiting and my mother was busy with my baby brother, I decided it would be nice if we made some lemonade.  Since my mother wasn’t available to tell me how to make it, I picked up the phone receiver and, when the operator said, “number please,” I asked her how to make lemonade. Without hesitation, she told me.  We don’t get that kind of service now.

  The “good old days” weren’t perfect, but there is something to be said for that personal touch.

                                                                 Until we meet again,

                                                                 Mary Nolan Brown, Author

P.S.  I’ve lost five pounds! I wonder if anyone in China is five pounds heavier?