Who ever created texting, thank you.
From the bottom of my introverted heart, I am grateful.
I truly have grown to loathe talking on the phone. Phone calls have become more of a nuisance than a form of communication for me in the recent years.
Outside of work related calls, I only talk to three people on the phone – Mama; my soul-sister and partner in crime, Sara Jean; and my sister-in-law, Karla.
Sara Jean and Karla typically use modern methods of communication, sending a text or a private message. And if they do call, I know it’s important.
If the phone rings and I don’t recognize the number, I don’t answer it. I know it is a telemarketer or a wrong number.
Since I don’t have voicemail (don’t ask me why, but I won’t check that either), I always just check the number online later. That’s when I find out it is a robo-call about switching satellite services or someone else trying to sell me something.
Mama, however, freaks out every time the phone rings.
She will call me at all hours of the day to Google a number for her, convinced who ever called her has an ulterior agenda.
“Mama, if you don’t know the number – don’t answer,” I will tell her.
She can’t do that. She has to answer. She retired from the phone company, so I guess it is ingrained in her to answer every ring-a-dingy she hears.
“What if it’s important?” she wants to know.
“They’ll call back.”
“What if they don’t?”
“Then it wasn’t important. Or they can text.”
Mama says, of course, that it may be a landline and the person may be unable to text.
“Do you ever answer your phone?”
I will if she calls and I am not busy, but Mama’s preferred time to call is when I am in the middle of work, and she has an emergency. Her emergencies typically involve the aforementioned Googling of a number, or could I maybe tell her what day the “NCIS” marathon is on this week – “You can find that on the computer, can’t you?” she will ask.
Sometimes, she will text. But God forbid she sends a text and I don’t respond with lightning fast speed. She will call. And if I am not able to answer, she does the unthinkable. She sends the sheriff out to my house.
She’s done it before, and has threatened to do it again.
“Mama, you need to just get rid of your landline if you are going to have a conniption every time the phone rings and you don’t know who it is,” I said.
“I am not getting rid of my phone. Some people still believe in talking on the phone,” was her response.
Why in the world would anyone do that?
Granted, when I was younger, I loved to talk on the phone.
I ran up phone bills so high, had Mama not had to pay them, she may be living in high cotton today. I truly doubt it, she would have just blown it at the mall on something I needed like hairspray or shoes.
But now, I cringe anytime I have to talk on the phone.
She is holding on to the last bastion of communication – believing the landline and talking on the phone are the way to save civilization.
“The world took a trip down the toilet when we started all this ‘LOL-ing, texting and nonsense,” she said.
Since Mama is not up to date on her emojis or her texting shorthand, she thinks the rest of the population are struggling to keep up.
“Mama, texting and technology have helped make things much simpler,” I gently reminded her.
She still doesn’t like it. I can be in the middle of a text response and she will call before I finish.
“Did you get my text?”
“I did and was replying – you don’t have to call to see if I got it.”
I could understand if she had just started texting, but she’s been texting for years. And just as long as she’s been texting, she’s been calling to see if I got her text.
She commented to me recently she needed a new phone, but expressed great ire at the only available option being a Smart phone.
“I am not using one of those things, I don’t want it. I want my flip phone, thank you very much – I am used to this and I don’t know why I have to change,” she said, exasperated when I told her what she would have to get.
“Mama, everyone else is using smart devices. You can figure it out.”
I paused to add an incentive: “You can FaceTime with Cole and get to see him.”
She thought about this for a moment before deciding it probably wouldn’t work and would result in further frustration.
“I don’t know why people can’t just use the phone the way God intended,” she said. “And I don’t know why you hate the phone so much now and act like it is such a great inconvenience.”
Because it is. Just because it rings, does not mean I have to answer it.
“A lot of what’s wrong with the world is people quit talking to one another. You get on SlapFace, and text and it’s not the same as really talking to people. And that includes talking on the phone, too, Kitten.”
Mama may have had a point. Maybe we as a collective whole did stop talking – really talking to one another at some juncture, and replaced it with emojis and “likes” instead of really giving our feedback and attention.
Maybe we should make it a point to try to communicate with one another better, make an effort to see how folks are doing, even if it means, horrors of horrors, calling someone.
People may like to know someone cares and want to share what’s going on in their life.
Besides – if it is important, I’m sure they will just text it anyway.