Phones Now and Then

I was on my way to work this morning when I realized I forgot my cell phone.  I feel so naked.  It hasn’t always been this way. 

Nowadays, cell phones are ubiquitous.  That hasn’t always been the case.  I grew up in the era when phones were attached to a wall in the living room or kitchen or sat on a small table.  Most homes in my town had but one phone.  There was a cord that limited your movement.  In my house, you had to stand during your conversation.  If you were having a long conversation, you may pause a moment and move a chair closer in order to sit.  It was a happy day when dad bought an extension cord that allowed us to sit in the chair or couch in the living room. 

Speed dial?  That depended on how quickly you could spin your finger around the dial when placing a call.  You hoped the number you called had low numbers.  7, 8, 9 and 0 took forever when you were in a hurry.  There was no redial on our rotary phone.  There was a dial and you were the redialer.  Why would you redial?  No one answered or you got a busy signal.  There was a time if you called someone who was on the phone, you heard a beeping tone which indicated the other line was off the hook.  Yes, off the hook actually meant the part of the phone you held to your head wasn’t resting on the mechanism that allowed inbound calls.

Call waiting started when I was in high school, but few had it.  It cost extra and most considered it a luxury that wasn’t need.  That was like having a microwave.  (I’ll have to write some time about my mom getting her first microwave.)  Speaking of costs, only local calls were free.  You paid by the minute for long distance calls.  Therefore, calls to family, who lived in Michigan, were limited to special occasions and emergencies. 

I remember the first time I had to call someone.  I don’t recall who it was or the reason for but I was quite nervous.  I was, perhaps, 6 or 7 years old.  Excitement filled me when the call was complete.  I also remember Community Bank in Canton had a phone number to get the time and temperature.  I would call that number multiple times to hear the temps go up during the day. 

It was a few years into my working life when cell phones first came out.  They were much bigger then.  They reminded me of some radios soldiers used in the Vietnam conflict.  I had a coworker who had a “car phone.”  The voice mail on his car phone said something like “I’m not out right now.  I’m in.  Leave a message.” 

Still, it was many more years before I actually used a cell phone.  I had a job at a hotel that housed airlines crews during layovers.  I was driving a crew to the airport when the hotel called me.  I had to ask one of the flight crew members to answer it for me.  I didn’t know how to answer it. 

Times have changed they continue to accelerate.  Looking back, I feel like I am an archaic man talking about horse and buggy days.  I will survive this day without my phone.  Not having my phone gives me time to write. 

Shorties: Number 57

A level above, I saw her, with the wind pulling her dress.  Narrow and to her ankles, the thin fabric drawn across her lithe frame, she was the silhouette of a goddess.  Delight illuminated her countenance.  I was captured, captivated.  Surely, Aphrodite paled in comparison. 

With uplifted hand, she pointed across the harbor and her ladies in waiting followed the gesture as they fawned over and about her.  Recognition and acknowledgement proffered excitement prompting me to glimpse the scene of her illumination.  Magnificent structures and sea fowl of every kind filled the horizon.  I returned my eyes to this heavenly creature.  Her gaze fell to me and our eyes locked in recognition of another soul. 

My heart jumped.  Like the gusts tugging her garment, I longed to, likewise, rush to her.  Oh that I could wrap my arms around her in warmth.  To give her delight, love.  Then her tresses fell, obscuring her vision and interrupting the spell cast upon me.  Still in awe, I observed her turn of head and delicate fingers pulling the locks behind her ear.  There she remained, looking about the harbor.  Alas, obligations called me onward. 

Her visage remains seared upon my memory.  She stood, gazing about with gusts pulling the dress across her form, revealing the curve of her hips and breasts.  She was regal and altogether lovely.  Surely, she was fearfully and wonderfully made. 

A Thought

Life is a miracle of doldrums and ecstasy, pain and pleasure, hate and love, work and leisure, and so much more.  Yet, we are all part of the fabric interwoven together.  Sometimes, God allows us the miracle of seeing the enchantment of it all. 

DWP

Shorties: Number 56

Ken dreaded this day.  Fleeting scenes played out in his mind for many months.  Typically, he ignored them and thought of something else.  Still, the scenarios were unrelenting and pushed him to the precipice.  There he would be shown the day Tank would be sick enough to force the decision to put him down.  That day just slapped him in the face.  He would again take the dog to the veterinarian.  The vet would give the option of some expensive procedure the family couldn’t afford or give Tank a shot and he would peacefully go to sleep never to wake again. 

 

More than anything, Ken felt guilt for killing the pet he loved.  No, he would not be the one giving the injection.  Still, it was Tim’s decision.  Guilt taunted and shook him.  They couldn’t afford to pay for surgery.  In his mind, Ken knew life was more important than money.  But Tank was a pet.  If this was his wife or kids, there was no question he would spend every penny they had.  No debt would be too great.  That Tank was an animal gave no comfort .  Tank was more than a pet.  He was family.  Again, guilt crushed in. 

 

Pictures of Tank’s last day with the family assaulted Ken’s consciousness.  They’d give their beloved pet everything he loved in one day.  He’d enjoy his favorite foods, treats, toys and games.  This part of the story was filled with brightness and smiles.  Then Tank got the injection and everyone hugged and kissed him as they said goodbye.  He was happy but Ken felt like shit.  He killed his dog. 

 

This is how Ken envisioned it:  As he says his goodbyes to Tank, the dog looks at his master with adoration.  He would submit to the alpha as he always did.  Tank rolls onto his back and Ken rubs the dog’s chest.  Brokenhearted, Ken bends down and hugs the dog.  As the medicine takes effect in the old dog’s body, he licks his master’s face.  At least, that is how Ken imagined it.  Tank would love and forgive his master even in death.  That killed Ken most of all. 

Shorties: Number 55

Across the Room

I saw you there with eyes looking down.  Such lovely cheeks and a narrow chin, I found you quite unforgettable. Your full lashes grabbed my attention.  They called to me, drew me in.  Even in the poor lighting, I could see they were not fake. I knew in an instant you were real.  You were a genuine soul. You could not be one insincere.  There are too many counterfeits, reproductions and imitators in this world.  Are your truly what I see and believe?   

With downcast gaze, you pondered the screen of your phone.  Was it your sweetheart sending notes of love?  No, were they amorous verses you read, I would have seen their reflection.  Your countenance gave not the appearance of romance.  It was pensive.  What could knit your brow so?  

Peering at you as I ponder the incalculable, I consider my own face.  Compared to your winsome beauty, I must appear one who would scowl or frown?  I pray I never cause you to wince?  Your eyes lift and lock with mine and I must dart away while a thrill sweeps over me.  Thought I you beautiful before, I now realize the folly of my previous estimation. You are far beyond my ability to compute.  

I steal another glance and you have returned to your phone.  Slowly, gradually, words form in my mind.  Actually, a singular designation lifts above all.  Lovely.  You are lovely.  A beacon of hope to one lost at sea.  A shining goddess, a pillar of charming, alluring heavenliness.  Surely, this is what grabbed me prior to my spirit’s recognition of your presence.  a

Alas, you rise and gather your possessions.  Before you take a step toward the door I feel your warmth retreat from the room.  Yet you extend a parting trinket.  Your eyes meet mine and your lips create a sultry smile.  Oh dear angel, your dulcet spirit, and sweet gift are warmly received.  Such treasures illuminate my tenor and charge my atmosphere.

Ali and Amal

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Said looked at his mother who was typing on the computer keyboard.  Why was she still awake?  Amal sensed his movements and turned to see who was walking up behind her.  Still turning she heard her son ask, “Momma?”  Smiling, Amal said, “Good morning!  How’d you sleep?”

Complete joy filled Amal.  Her Ali had miraculously returned.  After a series of online messages, Amal learned this person who started following her blog was none other than her childhood love, Ali.  Amal knew her face must radiate the joy in her heart. 

Seeing her son standing there, Amal’s first instinct was to tell him of the miracle that carried her heart to the stratosphere.  However, she dared not say a word.  How would her son and daughter react to know their mother loved someone other than their father?  Said recognized joy in his mother’s tired but joyful eyes but why was she so happy?  Life had been filled with darkness since his father died.  Said stood still as words slowly formed in his mind.  Finally, he asked, “Have you been up all night?”

Smiling Amal said, “Yes, I have.”  She paused, knowing simple curiosity demanded to know the reason.  She continued, “I got busy with things and I got some very important feedback on my blog.  It has made me very happy.” 

Said’s foggy mind processed this information.  Then Amal said, “I’ll start breakfast shortly.  I’ll make your favourite, ok?”  Said nodded and walked to the kitchen and Amal returned to the computer. 

She typed, “My Ali, my son is awake and I must go.  I can’t begin to describe to you how my heart soars in the heavens.” 

Amal sent that message.  She wanted to say she loved him.  With every fiber of her being she wanted to scream how she loved him.  She never stopped loving Ali but it was not appropriate for her to say.  She simply added, “I have missed you so.”

“My Amal, the last hours have passed quickly.  My mind is crazy.  I cannot express everything I feel but I am very happy.  You can talk again tonight, yes?”

“Yes, my Ali.  I can talk again once my kids are in bed.  I will write as soon as I can.” 

Both Ali and Amal went through their work days content to know the ones they loved were safe and close by.  For the first time since Amal wed before her 16^th birthday they could speak to one another as they pleased.  For the first time, they both lived in anticipation of the future. 

Shorties: Number 54

This is an excerpt from my story Shards of Glass.


He was never one to do things half way.  Nick would throw himself into healthy eating and healthy living.  He smiled to himself at the thought of how the kids would react after telling them that he would finally start making better, healthier choices.  He could hear Gwen saying in heaven, “It’s about time.  I told you for years and you always complained about the healthy food I made for you.” 

He sat at the counter between the kitchen and dining room and read through the informational brochures given to him by one of the nurses.  He didn’t think the eating changes would be that difficult.  He’d have to reduce sweets and fats.  He would eat more chicken, salads and fresh vegetables and less steak and potatoes.  The exercise troubled him more than the diet. 

Nick was not a showy type of person.  The thought of going for a walk every day bothered him.  In his mind, everyone would be watching him.  The same thing applied if he joined a gym.  People there would be watching and judging him.  They would see this man in his 50s who is a little overweight and out of shape.  Just the thought of it made him uncomfortable. 

He was a reminded of a comedy sketch by a stand-up comic who joined a gym.  The comic related how he would do a few minutes on the horrible machines but he would cry the whole time.  Some of his personal trainers quit and some turned to drugs and alcohol.  Nick laughed out loud at the thought. 

He made the decision to start off walking very early in the morning while it was still dark.  Nick was certain he could finish and no one would see him.  He drove to the local Sports Authority and bought a pair of walking shoes and some workout clothes.  Before climbing into bed, he set the alarm for an hour prior to his normal waking time.  When the alarm went off, it was as if he had to walk down a long corridor to reach a level of consciousness that allowed him to understand what the noise was.  His mind screamed, “No!”  He rolled over and stared at the clock.  He wanted to go back to sleep.  Instead he said, “Day one.”