Because I can’t turn this head office of mine off, I’ve scribbled this bonus entry in addition to today’s write-up. The opening paragraph got me thinking and I can’t seem to stop. As I should, I apologize in advance...this one needs one.
I’s born in the dark ages and am old enuff to know what life was like before sell-phones. I knew that time well, and the sad truth is I miss it. But yep, I understand that that time’s gone fer-ever...and it ain’t never comin’ back. I also git that TIMES CHANGE (truth is, theys don’t...we do). And I also understand that thems little choice but to except it (or, as is the case in my case, to try to keep outrunnin’ it all).
But I’ll tell ya about it anyways sonny, ‘cause it was a rootin’ tootin’ hootin’ good time. MUCH BETTER THAN NOW!
We used to hike up thems long trails and if we needed to make a call, we’d walk to a town, set our seventy-pound backpacks down, and use what was known then as a PAYPHONE. Most them payphones was located ANYWARE BUT IN THE WOODS, sumtimes noware near the trail!
Theys was strange contraptions, them payphones. Ya had to carry heavy coins to operate ‘em and ya sumtimes needed an OPERATOR to operate ‘em, if ya couldn’t do it yerself! Them phones each had a huge handle, which, compared to today’s phones, was nice ‘cause it was easy to hold and it never fell out of yer hand. The problem was ya couldn’t hardly take ‘em ANYWARE! Theys had a god-darned cable connected to ‘em, and that cable was firmly attached to a building!
And I’ll be shin-dipped in misery, ya even had to DIAL the der-vice! The dial was basically a rotatin’ plate the size of a 45 record, and ya literally despised friends with a 9 or a 0 in their number! It took fer-friggin’-ever to call ‘em! But don’t ya worry sonny: I ain’t got the time to explain it in much detail, nor what a record is.
Sumtimes though the phone had a small booth surroundin’ it, which was a little bigger than an outhouse, but usually see-through and noware near as nasty smellin’. It was grate when a phone had a booth, ‘cause the phone actually worked inside! The reception was purfect everytime. Plus, the booth offerd at least a little privacy and an escape from the rain and snow. Sumtimes them booths even came with a small table or a bench to prop yer butt down onto. I even knew a super guy that used to change his clothes in ‘em. Super because he always left a nice suit and tie behind, which a hiker could use if he or she needed extra clothin’ in the rain or snow. Simply remove yer big ol’ boots and yer soppin’ Levi jeans and the flannel, and swap ‘em out for that mighty fine polyester stuff!
Mostly though, there was no phone booths, and ya’d have to stand outside beneath an awnin’ on the side or the front of a buildin’, talkin’--not typin’ or “TEXTIN’”--to an actual person on the other end of the line, in front of any strangers that might happen by or was waitin’ to use the phone after ya did. It was soooo outmoded! Ya couldn’t even call 911 if ya’s wasn’t anyware near one of them phones ‘cause theys was immobile! Like they couldn’t move and shit.
I ain’t shittin’ ya! If ya’ll got hurt in the backcountry ya had to possess SKILLS and maybe even a MAP and COMPASS to git yerself out of the situation! But them skills was damn nice to have, ‘cause theys didn’t require no BATTERIES (which wouldn’t uh been included anyways, cause nuthin’ free ever is) and there was so few people out and about. I’d go days and never see no one. So no one but YOU could save you. ‘Cause of this, we made it a HABIT of not gittin’ hurt. We knew this huge self-reliance hassle as nothin’ more than: THE WAY IT WAS. And there was no way to change THE WAY IT WAS.
Thankfully, nowadays, what with THE WAY IT IS, anyone can stray afar--and theys offten do!
Once e-mail was popularized, we’d use a POCKETMAIL DER-VICE to send or check our e-mails or write in our journals. It was a finicky gadget, and it had to have batteries (which wasn’t even included!). Ya also still needed the payphone too, since ya had to stick the handheld der-vice up to that big-ass handle to communicate. Sure, ya had to SIGN A CONTRACT and pay fer the thing practically almost every month, but we was told it was a big technological leap. It certainly enabled us to talk less, which ‘course was a major advantage since it’s how today’s modern manner of communication works. (A major advantage always outranks a general advantage!) Time always proves that change is fer the better!
And check this out, sonny!
Prior to PocketMail we used a PEN or PENCIL, to write on PAPER, that same stuff BOOKS used to be written on! I used to send postcards from towns along the way, in the MAIL. A guy or gal in a spiffy blue uniform would deliver ‘em to the address I’d wrote on ‘em! Them guys and gals must’ve walked farther than even us hikers, and theys wasn’t even ultra-lighters, what with all the crap theys carried! And let me tell ya, theys didn’t even ware no rucksacks! Crazy!
But bare with me, sonny. It gits even crazier, like a two-peckered billy goat.
There was times when I actually had to INTERACT with others. When theys was around, anyways. Maybe I’d need help decidin’ which trail was the rite one or sum such. I’d look ‘em in the eye, and they me, and we’d face one another and BOND like rubber cement. It was genuinly odd…theys always seemed amicable and knew what theys was talkin’ about, and we offten became FRIENDS. Not Facebook friends or VIRTUAL friends, but REAL, honest-to-goodness chums.
Ya might say we made a CONNECTION, although it was different from today’s type of connection. In this day and age ya can have many more friends--hundreds, maybe even thousands more! But I’s happy, ‘cause of them friendships I made BACK IN THE OLD DAYS, many have lasted to now, decades forward. And theys should continue to do so fer the UN-FER-SEEABLE FUTURE, ‘less, ‘course, any one of us become too goddamn cantankerous, as the unfurlin’ of time has been known to show. Hard to except shit.
Dagnabbit sonny! Look at me when I’s talkin’ to ya! Set that thing down! Don’t make me backhand yer ugly ass! I’s warnin’ ya! Alrighty then, this is gonna hurt me alot more than it’s gonna hurt you...
~~~~~~~~~~
I’s born in the dark ages and am old enuff to know what life was like before sell-phones. I knew that time well, and the sad truth is I miss it. But yep, I understand that that time’s gone fer-ever...and it ain’t never comin’ back. I also git that TIMES CHANGE (truth is, theys don’t...we do). And I also understand that thems little choice but to except it (or, as is the case in my case, to try to keep outrunnin’ it all).
But I’ll tell ya about it anyways sonny, ‘cause it was a rootin’ tootin’ hootin’ good time. MUCH BETTER THAN NOW!
We used to hike up thems long trails and if we needed to make a call, we’d walk to a town, set our seventy-pound backpacks down, and use what was known then as a PAYPHONE. Most them payphones was located ANYWARE BUT IN THE WOODS, sumtimes noware near the trail!
Theys was strange contraptions, them payphones. Ya had to carry heavy coins to operate ‘em and ya sumtimes needed an OPERATOR to operate ‘em, if ya couldn’t do it yerself! Them phones each had a huge handle, which, compared to today’s phones, was nice ‘cause it was easy to hold and it never fell out of yer hand. The problem was ya couldn’t hardly take ‘em ANYWARE! Theys had a god-darned cable connected to ‘em, and that cable was firmly attached to a building!
And I’ll be shin-dipped in misery, ya even had to DIAL the der-vice! The dial was basically a rotatin’ plate the size of a 45 record, and ya literally despised friends with a 9 or a 0 in their number! It took fer-friggin’-ever to call ‘em! But don’t ya worry sonny: I ain’t got the time to explain it in much detail, nor what a record is.
Sumtimes though the phone had a small booth surroundin’ it, which was a little bigger than an outhouse, but usually see-through and noware near as nasty smellin’. It was grate when a phone had a booth, ‘cause the phone actually worked inside! The reception was purfect everytime. Plus, the booth offerd at least a little privacy and an escape from the rain and snow. Sumtimes them booths even came with a small table or a bench to prop yer butt down onto. I even knew a super guy that used to change his clothes in ‘em. Super because he always left a nice suit and tie behind, which a hiker could use if he or she needed extra clothin’ in the rain or snow. Simply remove yer big ol’ boots and yer soppin’ Levi jeans and the flannel, and swap ‘em out for that mighty fine polyester stuff!
Mostly though, there was no phone booths, and ya’d have to stand outside beneath an awnin’ on the side or the front of a buildin’, talkin’--not typin’ or “TEXTIN’”--to an actual person on the other end of the line, in front of any strangers that might happen by or was waitin’ to use the phone after ya did. It was soooo outmoded! Ya couldn’t even call 911 if ya’s wasn’t anyware near one of them phones ‘cause theys was immobile! Like they couldn’t move and shit.
I ain’t shittin’ ya! If ya’ll got hurt in the backcountry ya had to possess SKILLS and maybe even a MAP and COMPASS to git yerself out of the situation! But them skills was damn nice to have, ‘cause theys didn’t require no BATTERIES (which wouldn’t uh been included anyways, cause nuthin’ free ever is) and there was so few people out and about. I’d go days and never see no one. So no one but YOU could save you. ‘Cause of this, we made it a HABIT of not gittin’ hurt. We knew this huge self-reliance hassle as nothin’ more than: THE WAY IT WAS. And there was no way to change THE WAY IT WAS.
Thankfully, nowadays, what with THE WAY IT IS, anyone can stray afar--and theys offten do!
Once e-mail was popularized, we’d use a POCKETMAIL DER-VICE to send or check our e-mails or write in our journals. It was a finicky gadget, and it had to have batteries (which wasn’t even included!). Ya also still needed the payphone too, since ya had to stick the handheld der-vice up to that big-ass handle to communicate. Sure, ya had to SIGN A CONTRACT and pay fer the thing practically almost every month, but we was told it was a big technological leap. It certainly enabled us to talk less, which ‘course was a major advantage since it’s how today’s modern manner of communication works. (A major advantage always outranks a general advantage!) Time always proves that change is fer the better!
And check this out, sonny!
Prior to PocketMail we used a PEN or PENCIL, to write on PAPER, that same stuff BOOKS used to be written on! I used to send postcards from towns along the way, in the MAIL. A guy or gal in a spiffy blue uniform would deliver ‘em to the address I’d wrote on ‘em! Them guys and gals must’ve walked farther than even us hikers, and theys wasn’t even ultra-lighters, what with all the crap theys carried! And let me tell ya, theys didn’t even ware no rucksacks! Crazy!
But bare with me, sonny. It gits even crazier, like a two-peckered billy goat.
There was times when I actually had to INTERACT with others. When theys was around, anyways. Maybe I’d need help decidin’ which trail was the rite one or sum such. I’d look ‘em in the eye, and they me, and we’d face one another and BOND like rubber cement. It was genuinly odd…theys always seemed amicable and knew what theys was talkin’ about, and we offten became FRIENDS. Not Facebook friends or VIRTUAL friends, but REAL, honest-to-goodness chums.
Ya might say we made a CONNECTION, although it was different from today’s type of connection. In this day and age ya can have many more friends--hundreds, maybe even thousands more! But I’s happy, ‘cause of them friendships I made BACK IN THE OLD DAYS, many have lasted to now, decades forward. And theys should continue to do so fer the UN-FER-SEEABLE FUTURE, ‘less, ‘course, any one of us become too goddamn cantankerous, as the unfurlin’ of time has been known to show. Hard to except shit.
Dagnabbit sonny! Look at me when I’s talkin’ to ya! Set that thing down! Don’t make me backhand yer ugly ass! I’s warnin’ ya! Alrighty then, this is gonna hurt me alot more than it’s gonna hurt you...
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