My kids and my more adept friends laugh at my one-finger texting. But now I have less motivation to improve my texting speed than to take advantage of another built-in feature of my cell phone: the ability to speak to people. Given the urgency of observing scrupulous social distancing, what better time to go old-school and make actual phone calls? If your older family and friends—or even some of your younger ones—are like mine, you may have discovered already that a Zoom video conference will not fly. But a good, old, reliable communication method like talking on the phone? Perfect.
Not so long ago, talking on the phone was the only way to hear someone’s voice if you weren’t both in the same place. I’m sure I am not alone in remembering just how great it was to get a really long phone cord so you weren’t stuck in the kitchen within earshot of everyone else in the house. I also remember getting sore ears from marathon, 8-hour-long conversations. I won’t be aiming to top that record, but I look forward to revisiting the coziness of lovely, leisurely, agenda-free calls.
As a young mom, I relied with other parents of school-aged children on phone trees, which we set up to quickly spread the word about last-minute announcements. Phone calls, as an unwritten method of conveying critical information, have their limits—remember playing the game Telephone and discovering how quickly simple messages can become completely transformed when passed from person to person? Yet as a means to simply stay in touch, calls remain superb.
Even now, with all the communication modes we have available to us, when we have an extra-special piece of news to share, isn’t it much more personal if you call someone to tell them in order to hear their reaction? What we gain in convenience and permanence through email and text is usually far outmatched by the nuance and intimacy of talking on the phone.
In the not-so-distant past, using the phone to keep touch with a far-away loved one was a much bigger deal than it is today, and for one central reason: cost. When I was a college student in a long-distance relationship, we used every trick we knew to keep our phone bills down, including calling each other well after 11 PM. At least we really did want to talk with each other, unlike the woman on the other end of this conversation.
Nowadays, very few of us operate under such budget constraints relative to phone calls. Indeed, the cost of calling is practically free, in comparison with every other aspect of owning a phone. So with that in mind, and considering how much simple pleasure a phone call can bring, how can you afford NOT to call your friends? You’re already paying for it!
A few of you may still not be entirely comfortable with using a telephone to, you know, talk to people. So let me supply a few videos to bring home how central phone calls can be to nurturing connection with the people you love. Or with people you want to tell off, depending. GOP phone lines are still open for business, as far as I know.
The social activity I miss most keenly at the moment is not being able to hear live music. On Super Tuesday, I had the good fortune to attend a sublime performance of three Beethoven trios by Yo-Yo Ma, Emanuel Ax, and Leonidas Kavakos, part of a subscription series at the University of Michigan. It has been very satisfying to hear world-class musicians this season, but part of the satisfaction has been the opportunity to spend time with MA, my good friend and concert buddy. Now that the remaining concerts have been suspended, my concert buddy and I have agreed to talk with each other regularly by phone. (If you’re reading this, MA, we need to block off that time!)
Here’s a classic live tribute to friendship, nurtured by making a call.
An important aside, since I mentioned live music: Marissa Higgins wrote a mega-post on Monday listing some of the many ways we can enjoy recordings of live performances online. In addition, popup live performances by artists are happening on Instagram and other platforms every day. Also good to know: Many initiatives have sprung up to support musicians and other artists whose livelihoods will be completely undercut by these essential social-distancing precautions we must take for the time being. Local efforts in my area include this project sponsored by the Washtenaw Arts Alliance (link for people to donate and for people to apply for funds). You might have similar initiatives near you, too. This national information clearinghouse offers relevant resources.
One friend from high school, IB, often makes the journey from California with her husband to visit me, perfectly timed so we can catch the Detroit Jazz Fest together over Labor Day Weekend. It’s a highlight of our year, but as much as I don’t like to admit it, we still could be under similar restrictions come September. IB is a beloved friend and a good phone talker to boot. I’m going to set up a time for us to chat right away.
Our institutions may or may not serve our best interests nowadays (how’s that for understatement?) but we can still share a rueful laugh about their failures even as we scheme to make them do better.
And, as Charlie Pierce observed last Tuesday in Esquire: “Self-quarantine is a good environment for counter-plotting.” Plenty of local political organizations and non-profits have quickly moved their interactions to online meeting platforms of various sorts. But I’m of a mind to also encourage open-ended conversations on the phone. Just this week, DS, one of our leading community organizers, called me out of the blue. We had a 10-minute conversation that affirmed we’re thinking along the same lines about community reinforcement, and we have a plan for next steps. If we talk regularly amongst ourselves, who knows what unexpected places our conversations will lead?
Plotting, or problem-solving, on the telephone isn’t usually a matter of life and death. But it is often much more efficient and pleasant to talk things through rather than discuss them via text or email exchanges. Nowadays, it’s also “obsolete” to be as concerned as Jerry and George were about the phone call that Elaine had with her friend on her cell phone while out on the street.
Accordingly, I am already planning to have some “walk and talk (on the phone)” dates with friends near and far. Thanks to my dear friend AOM for the inspiration! She and I have a time booked for this Saturday. We all sure need to get out of the house and into the fresh air (at a prudent distance from other people), and if scheduling a phone call helps my mental and physical health, then I’m all for the mutual aid.
Advertisers for telecom companies have known, for a long time, just how to push our buttons to tap into that yearning to stay connected—but their monetization of that common impulse doesn’t render it invalid. As this New York Telephone ad from the days of payphone reminds us: We’re all connected.
For now, reaching out to each other cannot be a physical act, but hearing someone’s voice can provide an exceptionally satisfying substitute. Earlier this month, I was on the receiving end of a wonderful and life-changing announcement made over the phone. I am so grateful to have heard the news that way. And as I’m passing it along, I’m making a point to tell people over the phone—rather than by email, text, or social media. It’s so much more fun to hear people’s immediate, excited reactions—the intake of surprise, the laughter of delight.
I’ll leave you with one more classic telephone ad, which reminds us that a phone call is “the next best thing to being there.”
Sure, there is no telephone call in the ad, only the depiction of two brothers engaged in a joint, creative project. For some of us, the concept of childhood bonds may be bittersweet, and nostalgia can be double-edged. Still, whether within families of blood or by choice, our drive to stay in touch deserves attention.
I’m making a personal resolution to talk on the phone with at least four friends and relatives a day. I don’t expect these conversations to be heavy, though they can be if necessary. Mostly they’re a means of making physical separation a little more tolerable for all of us. Won’t you join me in that commitment—or challenge me to raise the bar? While you’re at it, please remember to clean your phone as regularly as if it were a third hand, please and thank you!
I hope you’ll share your own plans for phone chats in the comments. Let’s make a date to return in two weeks to discuss how well we’ve done. I think we’ll all appreciate the chance to talk, to laugh, to vent, to listen, and to breathe.