When I was, oh, 18 or so, the phone was my lifeline. My girlfriends and I could chat for hours on end, and when the phone rang I was running to the phone, snatching it out of my dad’s hands before he could utter a hello.
The phone rings and I cringe. Without picking up the phone, I ask with a throaty voice, WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!
I’d much rather text or email, or even send pigeons. Flickering lights! That is GREAT communication! But the sound of a phone ringing makes me want to fling it out the door.
Ironically, the one phone call I’m happy to pick up is telemarketers so I can tell them to STOP CALLING ME.