"And God saw the earth, that it was good. And he created man...." and had it stopped there, we could have all lived happily ever after, but he did not. He gave us a brain and free will. And the cell phone! And he did it pretty much in that order.
I remember back before Strong Street in Nickerson, we lived in a little 4 room house on a road with no name in the Ailmore house. It was a little square house with a combination living/dining room, kitchen, and 2 bedrooms. Dad always had his own room and us kids slept like little sardines in iron frame beds with cotton stuffed mattresses and covered up with wool blankets. It was during World War II I am thinking. The floors were wooden planks. No linoleum for us. I went out the back door and into the pump house to take turns with Jake pumping water for the old cow who gave us milk. The outhouse was off to the left of that. I am not sure it had a door, but that is not relevant to this story. I am hear to tell you about the Lord inventing cell phones and how it has changed my life.
We had a wooden box phone on the wall and I wished to hell I had it today. I could sell it and retire. The point here is if some one wanted to talk to us they picked up the receiver and Mrs. Humphrey (and that was her name) said "Number please." You told her the number and she plugged your cord into the number you wanted. Lines were crackly, but you were connected. Over the years this has changed and we now poke in the number we want and the connection is made. Not good enough.
We now have "cell phones". These things have evolved until every one is now connected with a "smart phone." We can call any where to any where else on our smart phones. We can speak into the belly of the smart phone and send a text message. Or make a reservation on a plane to nowhere. Or set an alarm to wake us up in 7 minutes. Or watch a movie. Or listen to music. Get direction to some obscure place. Well, maybe you can. Me, not so much!
I can find the button to turn mine on. I have yet to find the button to turn it off. Or the volume key, so I can hear it ring. I can see a tiny little thing flashing and some one said, "Oh, you have a message." Well that message shall die with the phone. I can not see the tiny little icons well enough to decipher what they are without my glasses and by the time I find my glasses the screen has safely hidden itself and God only knows where. When it rings, I think it is my stomach growling because I can not hear it. Well, unless I am in church or some place quiet and then that sucker can make a sound like a tug boat in a foggy bay.
My house phone has now been relegated to the humble job of finding the damn cell phone so I can put it in my purse where in can flash and carry one like a new puppy in a field of daisies. I call it and if it is turned on and I can actually hear it ring I can then see the message "8 missed calls." With luck I can find the "missed call list" and find out the 8 calls were me looking for the damn phone. You know I would throw the damn thing in the river if I thought it would stay there, but it has a life of it's own.
And now it is almost 5 o'clock in the morning and I just realized I do not know where that evil little piece of plastic is located. I like to think I don't care, but what if I missed a call? What if someone wanted to actually talk to me? What if someone needed ME! So, I am going to go see if I can find it and turn it off. That is assuming I know how to do that and that it will let me!
Have a good day!
I remember back before Strong Street in Nickerson, we lived in a little 4 room house on a road with no name in the Ailmore house. It was a little square house with a combination living/dining room, kitchen, and 2 bedrooms. Dad always had his own room and us kids slept like little sardines in iron frame beds with cotton stuffed mattresses and covered up with wool blankets. It was during World War II I am thinking. The floors were wooden planks. No linoleum for us. I went out the back door and into the pump house to take turns with Jake pumping water for the old cow who gave us milk. The outhouse was off to the left of that. I am not sure it had a door, but that is not relevant to this story. I am hear to tell you about the Lord inventing cell phones and how it has changed my life.
We had a wooden box phone on the wall and I wished to hell I had it today. I could sell it and retire. The point here is if some one wanted to talk to us they picked up the receiver and Mrs. Humphrey (and that was her name) said "Number please." You told her the number and she plugged your cord into the number you wanted. Lines were crackly, but you were connected. Over the years this has changed and we now poke in the number we want and the connection is made. Not good enough.
We now have "cell phones". These things have evolved until every one is now connected with a "smart phone." We can call any where to any where else on our smart phones. We can speak into the belly of the smart phone and send a text message. Or make a reservation on a plane to nowhere. Or set an alarm to wake us up in 7 minutes. Or watch a movie. Or listen to music. Get direction to some obscure place. Well, maybe you can. Me, not so much!
I can find the button to turn mine on. I have yet to find the button to turn it off. Or the volume key, so I can hear it ring. I can see a tiny little thing flashing and some one said, "Oh, you have a message." Well that message shall die with the phone. I can not see the tiny little icons well enough to decipher what they are without my glasses and by the time I find my glasses the screen has safely hidden itself and God only knows where. When it rings, I think it is my stomach growling because I can not hear it. Well, unless I am in church or some place quiet and then that sucker can make a sound like a tug boat in a foggy bay.
My house phone has now been relegated to the humble job of finding the damn cell phone so I can put it in my purse where in can flash and carry one like a new puppy in a field of daisies. I call it and if it is turned on and I can actually hear it ring I can then see the message "8 missed calls." With luck I can find the "missed call list" and find out the 8 calls were me looking for the damn phone. You know I would throw the damn thing in the river if I thought it would stay there, but it has a life of it's own.
And now it is almost 5 o'clock in the morning and I just realized I do not know where that evil little piece of plastic is located. I like to think I don't care, but what if I missed a call? What if someone wanted to actually talk to me? What if someone needed ME! So, I am going to go see if I can find it and turn it off. That is assuming I know how to do that and that it will let me!
Have a good day!
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