I suppose I am a child of my times. I guess that’s where we all are. Those early experiences we all had somehow find a way to influence our thoughts and emotions for the rest of our lives. I always heard it and now am experiencing it: the older I get the more those early experiences seem to come into play.

Here’s the thing: I remember when the telephone man brought our first phone to the house at 3711 Pontiac St. in Baton Rouge. It was a bakelite monstrosity that weighed 15 pounds if an ounce. The number was 4881. We shared a two party line for a while until single party lines were available. Mrs. Davis, a kind of relative, was our partyliner and had the habit of picking up on our ring. I can hear my mother firmly telling her to hang up, as it was clear when the line was open on the other end.

I loved to talk on the phone. As the “kid” in the room, I seldom had that chance. I remember once the phone rang in 1942 and it was my uncle Jerry, after whom I was nicknamed, calling from the Brooklyn Navy Yard. He was a gunner’s mate on a destroyer. I said Hi uncle Jerry, you sound so far away, and he said he was. He said, put your aunt Clara on. I called out to aunt Clara, it’s uncle Jerry come quick. To this day I wish he had asked me how I was doing. I’m sure he wanted to know.

She got on the phone and they talked a long time. She hung up and looked at us all gathered around in that little confining living room, and said, He’s going to sea. He didn’t say so but I know it. He’s going to sea. My mother made a pot of coffee. And he did go to sea. The Coral Sea, Saipan, Guadalcanal, Midway. He came home without a scratch after all that and drank himself to death.

It wasn’t long before I had friends who called and we talked so long. We were being with each other on the telephone. It wasn’t necessary to keep saying things – just knowing that on the other end was someone you cared about was enough. It was communicating over a new medium. Conversation was a big thing in our culture. The advent of the telephone simply expanded that opportunity.

Mostly the phone these days is used in a utilitarian manner. Making appointments. Ordering stuff. If someone lives far away there may be a long conversation now and then. Email, chat, and FaceBook seem to have usurped the phone these days to a large degree. A multitude of micro Twitter-like messages take the place of long conversations with long pauses and deep sighs.

It’s still a thrill for me to get a call from a valued friend and realize they just want to talk a while and catch up – real time – live conversation. I love that line by Paul Simon, “These are the days of miracle and wonder. This is the long distance call.” It seemed that way to me then. Still does.

I got such a call today. And old friend, and we talked about life and how with each passing year it becomes more precious. We’ll see each other again in the summer and take a boat ride out into the middle of the lake and talk and toss back a few and bask in the aura of that original low tech communication application: live conversation, interspersed with meaningful periods of silence. No electricity required.