
Again on my back porch, this very-early morning, savoring my mug of hot, this time Guatemalan-fair trade-organically grown-coffee, and savoring the day that would soon dawn. As our loyal readership may have noted, we submitted no post (comments—yes) for your consideration on Thursday the 16
th—it was kind of nice taking a day off.
I received a new phone book the other day, one of several I receive each year. It’s still on my front porch. It’s still in the plastic bag. It hasn’t moved in three days. It’s not likely to. The last one arrived in July. After a week or so, I brought it in the house. My back hurt for a week!
That book, the one I brought in the house, not the one still in its plastic bag, and still on the porch, weighs about ten pounds, and is printed in about 6pt font, is impossible for me to read without some form of magnifying device. I don’t use the phone books, they’re huge, heavy, take up way too much room, and by the time they arrive—outdated.
I called Qwest. I wanted to opt out of receiving the books. The helpful person there told me they were FREE, and part of their service to customers, and that I couldn’t opt out. Besides, the “helpful person” told me, that book wasn’t theirs—it was from a competitor. I called the competitor and never got past the: “Your call is important to us…”
Deciding to at least purge my house of all these unwanted FREE phone books, that had accumulated over the past couple of years (Medford & Jay’s Truism #29: “That which enters a home doesn’t always leave, it merely filters down to the basement.”). After several hours of back-breaking work, every one of the books, including the most recent one, never opened, were neatly stacked at curbside for recycle pick-up.
Later the same day, I heard the recycler’s truck outside. “They’re gone!” I thought, “This is great—I’ve gained a whole closet’s worth of space for better purposes!”
I looked outside—and my bins were empty. I went to the curb to pick up the empty bins, and there I found, in the bottom of one of the bins, a yellow piece of paper. It looked suspiciously like a page from a phone book. On that page, scrawled in magic marker, was the following: “JAY, ONE AT A TIME, MY BACK’S GOING TO HURT FOR A WEEK. TOMMY” (I know my recycle driver—codgers make it their business to know their service people). Lesson learned. As I was bringing the bins back to the house, I couldn’t help but notice another plastic bag, on my porch, with something very large in it…
Jay Merton
The good thing about not having a land line is that they don't drop off phone books. We haven't had a land line for more than 6 years.