I glance at the caller ID screen and don’t recognize the number, so I don’t bother picking up. If I’m near a computer or my iPad I’ll probably Google the number for clues.
I check voice mail. Oh, yay! I’ve won a cruise to the Bahamas… for the fourteenth time this year.
Nine out of ten phone calls I get these days are either surveys or robocall spam. The automated calls from my local Honda dealership that are so conversational they sometimes suck me into replying “Hello?” are particularly annoying.
The days of friends and family calling to chat are just about over – and I’ll admit I’m rarely compelled to initiate a call myself. My dad still calls to catch up now and then, which is refreshing.
I miss the sound of the phone ringing as something positive to look forward to. Would it be a friend wanting to see how I’m doing? A family member calling to share their latest news?
I wonder if I’m being nostalgic for no good reason. Email, Facebook, and Twitter are are the main ways I communicate these days, and they seem to serve me well. And yet, every time the phone rings and it’s not a real human, I get a little wistful.
Do you miss having “real” conversations on the phone? Do you still call your friends?
This was supposed to be the exciting post in which I re-premiered a revelatory autobiographical documentary I made many decades ago. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be, as thanks to my over-attachment to outdated technology, I have no way of converting my old VHS tape into a digital format at the moment. (Ironically, the software we had for the task no longer runs on our current operating system.)
Despite this technological failure, I will still share with you the title of the video: Kathy P: Listoholic. In the spirit of the piece – which will have to wait for another day – I present to you, a list:
Five Random-But-Slightly Related Things You May Not Know About Me
Back in the stone age pre-Internet era, I worked in film and television as a production manager, associate producer, script supervisor, and editor, among other stressful, demanding, and unglamorous positions. If you – or your children – watched TV in the 1990s, you may have seen someof myshows.
I used to be called Kathy. My moniker morphed in 1992 when I assistant directed a kids’ TV show and the floor manager’s name also happened to be Kathy. Two Kathys on one control-room/studio intercom system was not workable, so being the younger Kathy I volunteered to give up my name. Kathryn stuck.
Before I thought I wanted to work in film and television, I thought I wanted to be a professional actress. I had small parts in movies and acted in plays from about the age of eight to my late teens, when I discovered super-8 filmmaking and decided that being behind the camera was a much better place to be than in front of it. (Later in life I would learn that behind-the-scenes was not all it was cracked up to be, either.)
I get nauseous and headachy watching movies that are too handheld, fast-cut, or that were shot with a high frame rate. If I take anti-motion-sickness meds beforehand I can usually handle it.
My favourite genre is the documentary. There is nothing quite like reality to move and inspire.
Before that, my career was building WordPress blogs for clients.
But this is my first blog.
I don’t count the bare-bones, default-header-bedecked site that mainly consists of beginner WordPress resources, nor will we speak of the single-subject and now inactive, anonymously penned site on some other blogging platform that shall remain nameless.
This is my first blog.
The milestone has made me reflect on all the other technology I’ve embraced kicking and screaming much later than most.
In rough chronological order:
No, wait, I still don’t have a microwave.
…been giggled at by store employees (“You want a… phone with a cord connecting the handset to the base? Do they still make those?”)…
…been glanced at surreptitiously with a mixture of pity and disbelief (my heavy white Macbook at a company-wide meetup where I was the only person with a computer over a couple of years old)….
…been addressed like I was completely insane, or perhaps just senile (Bell Canada: “Madam, are you quite sure you don’t have a touch-tone phone? We would be willing to take the $2.55 charge off your monthly bill but I highly doubt you are not using it.”)…
…had my tape-answering-machine beeper stared in bafflement (a piece of technology so outdated and apparently un-memorialized – not even qualifying as hipster-retro, like the venerable cassette tape – I cannot find a single image of it on the interwebs)…
…had my little retractable-antenna-topped Nokia and later my scratched-up iPhone 3 stared at and outright mocked (with affection, since these were my friends we’re talking about).
I wore it all with a badge of stubborn pride and irony.
But now, with the new blog, and the arrival of an iPad mini in the household this week, I feel a small sense of loss and sadness. Now I’m just like everyone else, you see.
Except for the microwave. There’ll always be the microwave.