Divorcing Landlines
My loyalty to my landline and its phone number lasted longer than most marriages. After 27 years, though, the magic disappeared, and I joined the ranks of the ever-growing wireless crowd.
According to a recent study by the federal government's Center for Disease Control and Prevention, one in four households were strictly wireless--up almost 2 percent from the first half of the year (and no siree missy, I have no idea why the CDC gathers information on that sort of thing).
Despite the increasing numbers on the wireless-only bandwagon, joining this trend was not an easy decision, especially for a fifties-something somebody. Apparently I was not alone in my reticence. According to the study, almost 50 percent of households with those in the 25 to 29 age bracket were wireless--only compared to 5.2 percent of folks 65 or older.
Like most bad relationships, I probably should have abandoned my landline long ago. It's not as if we had a trouble-free relationship. In fact, my landline was problematic from the beginning. Sometimes it would work. Sometimes it wouldn't. If we got a good rain, the line had lots of interference. Complaining only provided a temporary fix.
Still, my landline phone number was the only phone number I had memorized anymore. (OK, that and the phone number from that Tommy Tutone's song "Jenny." You know the one…867-5309.) I'm pretty certain that if I got bopped upside my head, I might forget my name, I might forget my zip code, I might forget how to tie my shoe, I might even forget the Tommy Tutone song, but I'm absolutely, positively certain I would remember my landline phone number.
Still, my husband wanted to abandon our line years ago so we could save the $90 a month charge, but I resisted, so he negotiated with the telephone company for a $50 a month service.
Of course, that meant no voice mail and no caller ID. (After living with no caller ID for three months, I think I would have rather poked myself in the eye with a pencil.) Still, I steadfastly refused to abandon my number.
Then my landline went from intermittently working to dead. The phone company claimed it was working. It wasn't. Like most corporations, no one listened, so we finally canceled the nonworking $50 a month line and joined the cell-only world.
I think it's that getting-bopped-in-the-head thing that keeps older folks from giving up their landlines. Of course, if I get smacked upside my head, the only number I'll know now is 867-5309. A lot of good that will do.
Follow Technorati