The Death of a Phone Call
Obituary:
It is with a deep and crippling sadness we announce the severing of the telephone line. The death of the phone call shant go in vain.
As for the phone call, what an honor it was.
March 10, 1876 - Sometime along the way.
Somewhere on a telephone pole far, far, away, the last ring was sounded, serenading the slow and untimely death of our beloved.
Cause of death: lack of use.
Our society has crumbled to the guise of a “well thought out” text, to an “it's quicker this way,” and to an abbreviated form of communication. It is much more than a phone call in which we must lower our veils and mourn.
It is the human connection that comes from a live interaction, from hearing another’s voice. It is the empathy evoked when we detect the fluctuations in someone’s tone- especially the ones we love, especially the ones we like. We are constantly finding ways to be subtly desensitized until we've reached a point of no return. We lose so much of what it is to understand one another when speaking is reduced to fine print on a screen.
Did anyone notice the nuances of “wyd?” Peaking through the three letters was a dotted line we signed when we responded with “nm.” Terms and conditions: negate conversation with alphabetized chatter. We end up talking without saying anything at all. A silent, unsuspecting plague that killed the phone call, are we its next victim?
The fact that this life runs us right out of time is often overlooked, one day, we will have none left. We will have run out of borrowed and screen time alike. If I were to tell you this obituary is very real, and the death of the phone call had commenced, would you yearn for the chance to hear it ring once more? It is said that you don’t know what you have until it is gone, so would we finally lift our heads from our messages if we could hear the deafening silence of a world without a telephone call? Truly, if you think about it, phone calls originated to bridge the barrier of time and distance and to formulate an instantaneous connection through wires and speakers. Texting gave us an easy out to say the hard and simple things. The phone call died at the hands of convenience. It is no coincidence that our youth rides a sled down a hill of social decline and degeneracy simultaneous with an uprising of stale-faced messages.
Playing the devil’s advocate, perhaps the phone call was the beginning of the end. After all, it was technology’s advances from the telephone that made its way to a cell- which was arguably the entryway to the social slaughterhouse.
The phonebook protocols to call back a prospective lover that every nineties chic-flic taught us—is that all to be disregarded? Are texts the modern-day love letter? Did voice memos take the reigns of late-night pebble-throwing boom-box serenades? What love story are we living out in the age circa the death of the phone call? And please, don't get me started on voicemails.
Perhaps, if the deceased were revived, we could walk slightly back on the hands of time. We could revert to natural conversation, the ebb and flow of talk. Put a quarter in the pay phone for: The wait three days THEN call, the “Hi! No I’m okay,” but you can tell there’s more where that came from, the “I love you, byeeee” and know they meant it because it was the voice of someone who’s irrevocably in love. To give CPR to the phone call and recharge its power lines may also recharge the small tokens of humanity we sacrificed to avoid the very thing we as people need: a sense of each other.
Before we sign the death certificate, I urge you to pick up the phone and dial a number you know by heart. I think they’ll want to hear from you.
Even my phone misses your calls, by the way.
Strike Out,
Rosemary Aziz
Boca Raton
Rosemary Aziz is a Content Writer for Strike Magazine Boca. A health and wellness junkie who finds leisure in writing, all things coffee, and observing the human condition– but people-watching is better with friends. Or in her next article. You can reach her by email at r.m.aziz0204@gmail.com .
Instagram: rosemary.aziz
