Yesterday's dinosaurs
The cell phone was dead — not just dying but dead. I’m not really very good at operating these gadgets, and I assume this itty bitty contraption has more bells and whistles than I’ll ever know, partly because the owner’s manual was way beyond my skill set.
Nevertheless, I’m smart enough to realize when the thing has died. No lights, no beeps, no funny little icons that I don’t recognize ... just darkness on the screen.
OK. Not a big deal. I’ll do just like people have done for years. I’ll find a pay phone, drop in a quarter or two (I think it used to be a dime) and make the call that had to be made. But after several stops and just as many exits and entrances back into my vehicle, I quickly realized I had a major problem ...
Where have all the pay phones gone?
Really. Think about it. When’s the last time you actually saw a pay phone? Where did they go? Last thing I knew every gas station, every restaurant, seemingly every little corner of my world had a pay phone, but now without me even realizing it, these convenient machines have slipped into extinction — the dinosaurs of the telecommunications world, so to speak.
I guess it makes sense. After all, who needs a pay phone anymore? As call waiting, caller ID and ring tones made their way into our vocabularies, the silver machines with places for us to slip in our coins quietly slipped away. They didn’t say good-bye. They didn’t tell us they were leaving. They didn’t even wave as they rode off into the sunset to that big warehouse of obsolete items in the sky. Instead, they just left — perhaps even a bit bitter from how we had ignored them, forgotten all about them — their bellies empty of change and their dial tones fading.
Was it that long ago I was given a dime to put into my saddle shoe, just in case I needed to use the pay phone to call home? Somewhere along the line I had to add another dime to my shoe, as the price went up, yet still it seemed like a pretty good bargain for a kid who needed to call home. I know the price eventually escalated to a quarter, but in the scope of things, nobody seemed to mind. After all, if you needed a telephone, 25 cents wasn’t a big deal.
I can remember making a few long distance calls on those pay phones. With stacks of nickels, dimes and quarters (they never did take pennies), you’d dial the number, and wait for that nasal-sounding operator to spit out the fee: “Please deposit $1.65 cents for the first three minutes.”
Scrambling like small animals must have done with the dinosaurs impending feet, you’d scurry to slip in the coins, fearful that operator would disconnect your call if you didn’t hurry. Always with a few dimes and nickels scattered around your feet, you’d hear a “Thank you,” and the operator would connect your call.
If you were lucky, you’d hear that familiar voice on the other end of the phone. Unlucky? The person you were calling wouldn’t be home, and all that change (hopefully) would be returned to you in a little silver cup. Worse case scenario? You dialed wrong, and some stranger on the other end of the line would answer. You’d hang up, and the hungry pay phone would swallow up your coins in its metal belly without one bit of remorse.
Yes, before our very eyes, the pay phone has become obsolete. With cell phones in our purses, our cars, clipped onto our belts and nestled comfortably in our pockets, these tiny gadgets, full of more technology than I’ll ever attempt to understand, have pushed over the big boy pay phone and sent them on down the telephone line. It was fast; it was quick. And up to now, I don’t think many of us have ever looked back.
Someday in the not too far future, there will be grandmas and grandpas sitting around telling stories (much like this one today) to their grandchildren about life from yesteryear. With wide eyes, those children will hear about many things like how popcorn used to be popped over the burner on the stove instead of in the microwave. They’ll hear about cameras that used something called film, and their mouths will drop open when they hear that Grandma and Grandpa used to take out a piece of paper and a pen to keep in touch, instead of kicking out an e-mail that’s delivered in seconds.
Yes, they’ll learn about cars that only ran on gasoline, and they’ll be appalled the folks only had three TV stations to watch. They’ll grimace when they hear about a time when fast food restaurants didn’t exist, and they’ll just shake their heads in awe, when they hear how much life has changed in such a short time.
But the conversation won’t last for long. While Grandma and Grandpa try to share their memories from the past, that quiet conversation will be interrupted with a distinct sound — much like those dinosaurs stomping through the forest — a ring tone will pierce the air, and all the grandchildren will reach for their pockets ... where a cell phone connects them to their own world.
