i miss telephones!

7 10 2002

at least the telephones of high school. i miss that telephones WORKED in high school. you dialed the number, and the person you wanted to talk to was there. end of story. sometimes they were grounded and couldn’t talk to you, of course, but usually you knew about these things in advance, and usually you could wheedle your way through the mom-or-dad barrier if you swore it was really important and you’d keep it really short.
it doesn’t MATTER anymore if it’s really important or really short. no one’s ever there. and i do realize the difference is that back when we all had curfews and no one had a car we were there because there was homework to do and anyway we had nowhere else to BE… but i miss it WORKING.
i miss that angst you used to feel when you picked up the phone to call that person you knew you really shouldn’t call, or shouldn’t call AGAIN–there was never a great reason why not, but you always KNEW–because you DID know that he/she would be there on the other end. the call always went through. there was never a machine, never an echoey space of cassette-time or digital air to ramble into, forgetting yourself, having no one to check your logic off of, no one to say “okay, i got it, stop babbling,” no one to mercifully whisper “yes, i know, i love you, shut up.”
and cells are NOT the answer. everybody has one. everybody has a little ringer in their pocket and they’re waiting to talk to me, except they’re not WAITING. they’re busily living and i’m intruding. they’re zooming down highways they ought to be paying attention to. they’re sliding in and out of static-fuzz-tower-shouting-zones. they’re at dinner, in a theater, talking to somebody else, and i can neither stand being that much of a buttinsky nor the shouting and the blank pauses while you wait for your words to travel all the way to space and back… my ex lives less than 100 yards from my house, and every time i call him it’s pauses and pauses and pauses; i never even know if he’s still on the damn phone. b/c i have to talk through outer space to get to him. my dad’s only had a cell for 3 years and every conversation i’ve had w/him for 3 years has involved shouting, passing towers, losing connection and starting over…
i just wanted to hear a voice, you know? i just wanted to know someone was safe at home, with a little homework, and a curfew, and nowhere scary or dark or dangerous to be.

tori’s “marianne” is playing in my head. probably because she killed herself. which is not currently uplifting.




One response

8 10 2002

“yes, i know. i Love you.” Very Much.

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