Editor, Times-Union: Whenever I become aware of these new, handy cellular phones that one can carry wherever he goes, I realize that after 60 or 70 years, there has been a drastic change in the construction and operation of the telephone.
Today, cellular phones are everywhere. They are glued to the ears of conversants ambling down the streets, eating in restaurants, driving in cars, flying in airplanes, etc.
Back in the '20s and early '30s, there were no cellular phones. In fact, in former times, for some folks a telephone was considered a rarity and luxury. Decades ago a telephone, encased in a strong oak box, was a device that hung on the wall. Two bells rested on top, the receiver hung on a hook and one talked into a mouthpiece connected to a black contrivance that jutted out from the center of the box. There was a hand crank that one had to work to put in a call to the "Central Office." "Central" was usually a lady who operated a switchboard consisting of numerous wires and plugs, and whenever anybody called Central, the first thing he heard from the operator was "Number, puh-leeze!"
In the old days, there was such a thing as a party line, made up of surrounding neighbors. When one party on the line was called, all of the other phones in the neighborhood also rang. Each person on the party line had his own ring code and everyone was familiar with everyone else's ring.
In days of yore, there was no TV and no soap operas to watch but one could have access to all of those "soap operas" that dominated the party line in the early days of the telephone. Whenever the telephone rang all a person had to do was run to the phone, take up the receiver and listen in on everyone's troubles and tales of woe for the day. (That is, an eavesdropper could listen in until one of the conversationalists he was horning in on got wise and bellowed out: "You nosy old busybody! Get off the phone and stop prying into my affairs!")
I, for one, have long been wary of the telephone, an obsession that reverts way back to my early childhood.
I recall that when I was 3 or 4 years old, to reach the phone, I would climb up on a chair, take the receiver off the hook and listen in to see if I could hear a voice coming out of that mouthpiece. Well, one day, to keep me from further tampering with the phone, my mother warned me that if I didn't stop listening in, the "boogie man" would get me for sure. But, refusing to heed her warning, one night when I picked up the receiver and put it to my ear, I heard a deep, gruff, evil-sounding voice growl from the mouthpiece: "Get off that blankety-blank phone, or you'll wish you had!" Well, I slammed the receiver back on the hook and got down from the phone as fast as I could. That warning from the "boogie man" was enough for me. Furthermore, several years went by before I could get up enough nerve to touch another telephone!
Don Kaiser Warsaw
Take Down Campaign Signs
Editor, Times-Union: Maybe a reminder to candidates to take down their campaign signs is in order. Tony Miller has numerous signs still littering the countryside from Mentone to Warsaw and probably other areas as well. Mr. Klinger also has many "signs" still posted that need to come down, but those have been affixed to utility poles, which I understood to be a violation. There may be others, but these are the two most prevalent ones.
