We’re finally doing it.
My bride and I are finally joining the growing legions of Americans who will be living without a land line telephone.
This is very bad news for the host of telemarketers, time share sales reps, political parties, and candidates who’s calls are the only ones we seem to get on our land line number of late.
Joining those who can be reached by calling our cell phone numbers was a more difficult decision than it should have been, except that we’ve had the same home phone number for more than 40 years.
We took it with us when we moved 3 times, and if it weren’t for examination of 2017 spending which revealed a cost of cable, internet and telephone service that far exceeded what we spent last year on city utilities, natural gas or electricity, that we decided to make the move.
I only feel bad because slick telemarketers know how to make their calls appear like they’re calling from a local phone number.
The land line joins the VCR in the realm of something we once couldn’t do without.
My answering machine and cordless phones will show up at the Interfaith Thrift Shop real soon.
And if you get a call from a 692 number, which says it’s from me, it’s not.
That’s the way I see it.