I can clearly recall driving the thirty minute drive out of our rural area for doctor visits, grocery runs, and other mundane trips on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. Since forgetfulness runs in my family, I always had to make a pit stop at a pay phone in order to refresh the gray matter sleeping snug as a bug within the confines of my skull. "What did you need from the store?" "How much money is in the account?" "What are the shoe sizes of the girls again?" Trust me...always in need of the pay phone I am.
What I'd like to know now is, WHERE HAVE ALL THE PAY PHONES GONE? (can't you just hear Peter, Paul, and Mary singing, "Long time passing...")
Yes, they were dirty, germ ridden, smoke smelling, alcohol reeking, money sinking parasites of communication need, but they were always there when you needed them! They are gone. Gone, gone, gone. Replaced by that ever changing device called...the cell phone.
Before we move on, I will let you know, yes...I have a cell phone. I jazzy little number; lime green is its color. I like it. It serves a purpose, and since I never carry pictures (welcome to the digital age huh?), I can update long lost relatives with a snazzy little pic of my brood. However, lets go back to the first paragraph where I let you know about my mind's tendency to forget. This forgetfulness, which is a natural occurring phenomena (thank God for spell check), has been pushed to the limits by something called chemo brain...yes...it does exist. So, as you probably guessed, that helpful little cellular device often gets left behind when I set out on my road trips. This brings me back to my original topic (I'm being a bit tangenty today), pay phones.
These guys are harder to find than Carmen Santiago (is that how you spell her name?), more elusive than Waldo, and apparently abducted by aliens. You can drive forever and ever, searching endless gas stations, Wal Mart parking lots, and Casinos (go La.). They cannot be found. But that's not all. When you actually do find the Bell South symbol, you know, the one with the telephone handle within a circle, and colored blue and white, the symbol that lets you know "Hey, there's a pay phone here!" nine out of ten times the phone is gone! Yes, gone. No phone, just the box. WTF! (how's that for an acronym?) Growl.
Of course, there are the times that you actually do find the pay phone. The pay phone, lonely, in a pit stops of pit stops, surrounded by broken concrete, scattered glass, and that guy wearing a raincoat...nothing but a raincoat. Do you really want to use the phone...that bad? Oh My Laundry!
Maybe this is God's way of saying, "Hey chicky, don't be forgetting your cell no more, got it?" I dunno.
Buddy can you spare a dime? Pay phone ahead at five Oh Clock, roger and out.
