Lots of us older folks worry about the shape the world is
taking. We worry that our kids’ lives won’t be close to as happy or full as
ours have been. The lack of intimate contact is one reason things seem to have
gone so wrong.
I marvel at
the communication skills or the younger generations. They can stay in constant
touch with friends, family and even strangers without ever uttering a
monosyllabic grunt. Technology offers a variety of ways to communicate without
actually speaking. Twitter and Facebook and texting are avenues for dispersing
information without having to look at a person eye-to-eye or listening to
another’s voice. Email by the billion zip across the Internet without even the
simplest personal touch of a hand-written signature. Too much of life is lived
in a faceless state.
Perhaps the
time to “go back” is at hand. Yes, I know that such proposals are absurd, but
isn’t it just possible that communications of a few years ago were much more
effective?
During the
1950’s and 60’s, most homes had landline telephones. Our first number was
“5385.” It grew in length until it was set at “588-5385.” My mother did most of
the talking on the
phone, usually splitting time with family members and church
friends. The farthest the phone would reach was across the kitchen, and that
was only because Mother installed a long cord that allowed her to cook and chat
at the same time. Sometimes she’d perch upon her two-stop, yellow stool, crane
her neck to one side to hold the phone and sew a hem or grade a sixth grade
paper at the supper table while she yakked to someone on the other end of the
line.
My kids
find it difficult to comprehend the idea of a party line. Back then, folks
shared a line with one or more families in the neighborhood. No, it wasn’t like
Andy Griffith speaking directly to the operator. Instead, the user picked up
the receiver and listened to make sure that no one was using the phone, and if
it were clear, she’d call the number by turning the rotary dial.
When the
phone rang, no one jumped to answer it. First, folks listened to the ring
pattern. Ours was one long ring. Our party line’s signal was two short rings.
After making sure the ring was the right one, a person would answer.
Sometimes
sharing was a pain, especially when the other party made a life of talking on
the phone. Nothing was more irritating than constantly getting a busy signal or
picking up the receiver to make a call for an hour or more and hearing the
neighbor clucking. If emergencies arose, a person could interrupt the conversation
and ask to make a call.
Neighbors
kept up with each other by simply connecting on party lines and talking. They
all knew that help was as close as next door or just a couple of houses down
the road, and everyone knew his neighbors well enough to call them by name.
Hanging
clothes on the line also led to good communications. Women of the day would
tote a basket of laundry to the poles and lines in the back yard and hang
shirts, socks, and underwear to air
These days,
people have abandoned landlines in favor of cell phones. They answer based on who’s
calling or the moods they are in. My kids will send texts all day long in favor
of making a call. I can complete an entire conversation in less time than it
takes to type a message. Dryers have made clotheslines, as well as
communications between neighbors, obsolete.
Sure, our world has made plenty of progress in
technology, but somehow, it seems that we’ve also managed to severe the ties
that bound earlier generations through party lines and clotheslines.
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