Friday, April 13, 2007


In case you were keeping count, that's how many posts I've done here at NAY.


It also happens to be the prefix of two phone numbers I've had. Well, probably more like 6 phone numbers I've had, but in two places.

Because that makes total sense.

If I thought long enough, I probably could remember most, if not all, of those phone numbers. The area codes have changed since I had 'em though, so they probably wouldn't dial correctly. Or, they would. What do I know? I'd like to get SOMEBODY on the line, just to prove I was there once.

Because that also makes total sense.

When I was a kid I used to think that phone numbers went with houses. Back when I was a kid, they likely did (when dinosaurs roamed the earth, that is. Because there were phones back then. Made of stone. Powered by sunlight and protomammals on treadmills). Now, of course, in these enlightened times, phone numbers are portable things, tradeable, switchable, untrackable (mostly).

How times do change.

No more rotary phones, no more satisfying "clickety click" of the dial as it rebounded through the numbers back to the resting place. No more cool word prefixes, which is the only way my Mom can remember the phone number of the house I grew up in (which, coincidentally, she ALSO lived in. imagine!).

I used to have a head for phone numbers. Now, with three of my own (phone numbers, that is, not heads), and an equivalent number for just about everyone I know, I rely on the "contact" feature in my cell phone to tell me what to dial and to whom I am speaking (snort!). No more pressing all those numbers and making up little remembering songs to go with their tones, it's one button and you're off and dialing.

In high school, our home phone number ended in 9090. Kind of like Mork's "nah-noo nah-noo,"' which is how my friends remembered it and was a current cultural reference we all thought was mighty funny. Ah, a time of innocence. I can still remember the tone tune for that phone number.....singing it in my head as I dialed would confirm that I'd gotten the right number, a handy thing for those midnight calls home to the parental units to tell them I was still OK, even though sometimes the OK translated directly into "had a belly full of beer." If I hit the numbers right and kept the conversation short, nobody would be the wiser and I had two hours to sober up and find some mints before heading home.

Not that I ever did that. Of course. Much.

I recently go a new cell phone, and for a period of about a month I could NOT remember what my new number was. It made no sense, has no pattern or rhythm at all. The area code is a given, but after that I got a little muzzy. However, you'll be pleased to know that I now KNOW it, and can rattle it off with almost nary a thought.

No, I'm not telling you what it is.

Everyones ELSE'S number is in the phone. If I ever lose that, I'm sunk.

The new phone also takes pictures. Amazing! It's beyond anything that my little kid-brain could have fathomed. A phone that takes pictures? And records SOUNDS? And plays music? And has GAMES? And a CALCULATOR? What kind of crazy talk IS that? Is this the future?

It is.

Ain't it COOL?


It's a gorgeous spring day here in Ye Olde Wake Forest-ey, and I've got a road trip to take this afternoon. Terrific weather for driving. If you're on my way to and from (read: routes 85 and 95 north to DC), I'll wave atcha! Lemme know at which exit I should raise the happy hand of greeting, and you'll be put on the list.

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