Throw me a landline.

I heard recently that there is a comeback in people getting landlines installed in their homes and I gotta tell you. I LOVE that for us. “Us” as in the collective us, aka humanity.

Hear me out. (You’ve been warned, the phone puns are limitless.) Go back in the time machine of your mind to a moment you felt truly alive. For me, it was about 11 years old, upstairs in my bedroom talking on my clear plastic phone with fluorescent internal mechanics showing, lost in a conversation about God knows what. Why Dr. Pepper LipSmackers were the best because they gave you just the smallest hint of red on your lips. Why parents were the worst because they wouldn’t let you have a sleepover the night you got home from vacation. Or down one floor, in the family room, curly chord tangled and looped around overstuffed furniture and stretched to the max, talking to your best friend about your other best friend, who’s obviously not your best friend anymore because she borrowed a pen from a boy that she absolutely knew (she did not know) that you liked.

What a time to be alive!

Why the nostalgic journey into the mid 90’s? It’s twofold, as in we are both overly-connected as a society, while at the same time robbing our children of a core youth experience. Allow me to explain.

1. I’m so sad for my kids. Not because they don’t have amazing lives, because I can assure you, they do. But we are a (mostly) tablet-free home, and we’ve got a pretty solid “no phones til you can drive” policy mapped out. Here, tablets are a privilege that are earned, but limited, and other than some light Facebook Kids Messenger-ing, they’re not using them to communicate with others. Which is what makes me sad. They live in a world that is so hyper connected, yet they can’t pick up a phone and call a friend unless it’s nagging me or my husband to the point of submission. And then it’s usually that one of us texts the other parent and assume the role of Jr. social coordinator, taking on one more thing to do in our already busy days. Why not just let them use my phone? 1. I don’t share well. 2. I don’t want them traipsing through my Instagram feed to see the heap of trash I’m being fed or accidentally emailing my clients selfies of them singing to “Pink Pony Club” or whatever K-Pop Demon Children soundtrack that’s been on repeat. So when they want to see if a friend can play, or just talk about whatever it is that’s coursing through their rapidly developing little brains, they’re just kind of… stuck. So why not get a phone that’s true to it’s original intention and let the children talk! Really. I think it’s great. Just like the trees do through the fungi, connected wires and all that.

   
   Now I just need to track down a Radio Shack…
   

   

2. I’m sick of being available. I am SO available. If I’m not sitting next to, or on top of, my phone, I’m at my laptop. Which is connected to my phone. And my watch. Which is always on me. Buzzing. Tracking. Watching. Look at the baby. (Deep cut for my fellow movie quoters.) And sure, sometimes I love the convenience of it all. But it’s also kind of… broken us? We have trained ourselves into being super responders, afraid to let more than 30 seconds go by without returning a text, or God forbid, letting a call go to voicemail. (PS never leave me a voicemail.) I know, this is a broad stroke generalization, but I have to say, based on the many conversations I’ve had about this, I think we all feel it to some degree. It has me terrified for what the expectation level is going to be for the next gen. If you don’t know someone is about to call you before they even pick up their phone, are you already late? Don’t you think there’s something romantic about the idea of resurrecting the old ‘telly? Tucking our little mini-computer phones and wearables into a locked box for a few hours each day, and realizing: hey… we’re not all that important!

   Very quickly, in defense of the Apple watch… I do realize that no one forced me to buy a handcuff that tracks my every move and literally tells me when to sit and stand, and I sure do love when all those rings close and I get some kind of “good job, human!” messages on the screen. It’s also super helpful when you’re nursing a baby, going for a walk or a hike, or just generally cannot get up to get your phone but really need to answer it.

Or better yet…

Now we’re talking. (Again, too easy with the puns.)