I've never been a huge fan of telephones. I especially loathe the act of actually answering the phone. Apparently, I have been stricken with a syndrome that my father was afflicted with many years ago. The man, to my knowledge, has never answered a ringing phone. "You going to get that?" I would say, while the phone rang off the hook. Usually, he wouldn't reply and simply continue watching the ball game or the news, or perhaps he would be staring off into space.
"Ok, I'll get it," I would reply to my own question. Of course, by then the phone would stop ringing and we would be left with only the faint curiosity of who could have been calling. Thankfully, we never missed an emergency of some sort.
So, I inherited my dad's disdain for ringing telephones. I hate answering, talking or even looking at a telephone. I'm not sure why. I guess it's in the genes. Often times, I longed for a way to communicate without actually having to talk to someone. Again, genes. It's not that my dad and I are some sort of weird introverts who don't have the skills to engage in conversation, it's just that we are in fact a bit strange in that we have an inexplicable phobia of telephone communications. Finally, in the age of technology, my prayers were answered... texting.
I have become a textaholic. Primarily, my attraction to texting revolves around the fact that I can sent out my message (in 160 characters or less) anywhere, anytime. I can also respond to a text at my leisure. I've been known to text an entire conversation with our pastor while firmly planted on the toilet. He didn't know my particular whereabouts during our texting marathon and probably didn't care. For all I know he was answering natures call too. Texting is, as with everything, not without it's drawbacks.
Admittedly, and begrudgingly, there are advantages to actually talking to the other person. Tone of voice is always an advantage when the other person can hear you speak. Enunciation, voice expression, are two things that immediately come to mind that let the person on the other end of the line know how you are responding to what they say. Unfortunately, texting doesn't offer the same.
Recently, I sent my wife a very simple message, "Get a gallon of milk on the way home." Her response? "Why don't YOU get a gallon of milk on YOUR way home!" I scratched my head. I was home. Apparently, my lack of typing the word 'please' and my subsequent failure to properly punctuate my message gave her the vibe that I was demanding that she stop and buy some milk. I quickly responded with, "Will you please get some milk!" which escalated the mini milk battle that could have quickly become a major milk war. A question mark would have been just fine. For some reason I inserted an exclamation point instead. I punched in her number and called her.
"Honey, would you mind stopping and picking up a gallon of milk? I'm making dinner are we're out. I need it for the macaroni," I said, in a soft tone, which bordered on groveling.
"Oh, sure. I can swing by the store in a few minutes. Thanks for making dinner."
Not everyone enjoys a good 'ol text. Or maybe it's just that they're not especially enthused at being inundated with texts during their son's basketball game as was brought to my attention at a recent Christmas gathering. The whole issue started a week or so ago when my cousin texted me requesting our mailing address. "What's your address?" she asked. In this age of terrorism, crime and overall bad behavior, I had to verify who was actually in need of my address. Despite the fact that her number and name appeared on my tiny screen I had to be sure. Well, not really, I was simply trying to be silly. "How do I know that it's really you?" I replied in a flash. I still us an old, obsolete phone which features a slide out keyboard, thus allowing me to reply with superior speed. I forget exactly how she replied, but she did, sure enough respond. So, I in turn replied. Then she replied, and then I replied. I was able to glean from her messages that she wanted to send us a Christmas card. I did, however notice that her replies were getting shorter and shorter until they simply stopped coming. I surmised that she was probably on the toilet, so I gave her a couple of minutes to finish the job at hand... and then texted again. Still nothing. 'Probably constipated' I thought, so I gave up.
A week passed and I was advised that the annual family Christmas gathering was to commence at my aunt and uncles home, which also happened to be the parents of my constipated cousin. Unfortunately, the start time of the gathering was the same time that our daughter's volleyball practice was scheduled to start. "I had better text Suz and let her know we'll be late," I said to my wife, who was busy gathering volleyball gear for the practice. So, I whipped up a text with superior speed (remember my slide out keyboard) and touched send. She responded immediately. So, in trying to be polite, I responded. Again, she responded. I responded. She responded. We just kept right on responding until her messages ominously stopped. "Suz stopped responding. Probably in the bathroom," I casually mentioned Kristi, who was glaring at me for some reason.
"Or, maybe she's sick of texting you. She has three kids, it's Christmas. Do you think maybe she's got better things to do than sit around texting you endlessly!!? For heaven's sake, you'll see her in an hour! And, just because someone stops messaging you doesn't always mean they're going to the bathroom!" she barked. I stared at her with a puzzled look.
"No, she's in the bathroom. I know it."
"Whatever, let's go! I swear, you're worse than any woman I know. Jeff's not far behind!"
I'm not sure why she saw fit to drag my poor brother-in-law into the debate, but she did. He likes texting too.
We went to volleyball practice and arrived at the family gathering just in time to eat, and of course I had the opportunity to see relatives that I don't see often. We had great fun. I also had the opportunity to apologize to my cousin for blowing up her phone with texts. Apparently, she wasn't in the bathroom, or constipated for that matter, she simply had other things to do. So, because I felt so bad about what I'd done, I gave her phone number to several other family members and urged them to text her as often as possible. She probably doesn't get many text from people other than me, so surely it will be refreshing to hear from someone different from time to time.
So, as I sit here about to conclude this blog, I find myself smiling and thinking that after all these years, and despite the busy lives we lead and the geographical separation, we can still share many good laughs. I think I will send her a text.
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