Simplify,
Simplify, Simplify!
“Don't
answer the phone just because it's ringing.”
Elaine
St. James (Simplify Your Life)
I
may be the only dinosaur left who still has a land-line telephone.
Everyday, I ask myself why. Some of us are conditioned to answer a
ringing telephone no matter how inconvenient it may be. I am one of
those. I think my tendency to answer at all cost came from my
childhood when the telephone, hooked to the kitchen wall, was the
main point of contact with the outside world. In those days, the
in-coming call might be my best friend calling to gossip, or a
relative announcing the death of someone in the family. It could be
Louise Taylor, my personal banker, calling to say, “Honey, a check
just came in with insufficient funds to cover; would you like to come
down here and take care of it?” (Remember those days?) The
telephone was a critical lifeline.
Now,
however, it's not critical at all. In fact, hardly anyone calls my
land-line except for tele-marketers selling burial plots, medicare
plans or equipment for diabetics. I guess they just assume everyone
in Alabama has diabetes. Of course, if I got rid of my land-line,
those all-important political robo-calls would be missed, along with
the slim chance of Publisher's Clearing House calling to tell me I've
won a billion dollars. Otherwise, I think I could live without it. I
have made progress on this front; when I see a name or location I
don't know on the caller ID, I pick it up and put it down again
without answering. That way my answering machine doesn't make that
annoying beep. And, I curse a lot when the phone interrupts whatever
I'm doing, even while I'm rushing to see who's calling. It's a
sickness, y'all. There should be a 12-Step group for it. But, you,
you're stronger than I am, and smarter, too.
If
you are trying to simplify your life to make it more manageable, you
might want to start with disconnecting the land-line (especially if
it's connected to Ma-Bell, the money sump). It is an unnecessary
inconvenience in our cyber-connected world. It cuts through our
serenity and wastes our time and money. At the very least, unplug it
after 8 at night—that's when the cemetery ghouls start calling to
remind you that you might go at any moment, leaving your poor,
struggling children to foot the bill! Geezzz!
In
the spirit,
Jane
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