Before Alexander Graham Bell

The term telephone was adopted into the vocabulary of many languages. It is derived from the Greek: τῆλε, tēle, "far" and φωνή, phōnē, "voice", together meaning "distant voice" according to Wikipedia. Prior 10 March 1876 when Alexander Graham Bell called out over his invention, the liquid transmitter, to his assistant, "Mr. Watson, come here, I want to see you.", all dialogues between humans had been conducted within ear shot or shout.

Nowadays telephones permit same-time conversations across the globe. In Asia in the 1990s calling back to the States required placing orders at the local GPO through an overseas operator. Messages were delayed seconds. Interference and electronic feedback were accepted flaws in the system was normal.

Come the second decade of the 21st Century and in one day I speak with my wives in Thailand, my brother Mawee in Loitokitok, Kenya, old friends in Paris, London, and Rome as well as all parts of the Americas and Hawaii. At least until last Thursday when I stepped on my cellphone.

Crunch.

A drop on tile had previously spidered the screen.

My cellphone resisted all attempts to restore service.

For all purposes it was dead, although the flashlight worked fine.

TMobile offered the option of buying another phone and still have to pay for the damaged device. I tried to connect with old burners. No success and on Friday I opted to order another from my server's insurance company and the agent warned that delivery was scheduled for Monday or Tuesday at the latest.

Four to five days without calls, social media, or texting.

An eternity in the Age of Instant Gratification.

Wikipedia claimed that in 2002, only 10% of the world's population used mobile phones and by 2005 that percentage had risen to 46%. By the end of 2009, there were a total of nearly 6 billion mobile and fixed-line telephone subscribers worldwide. On July 28, 2023 I was not one of them. I existed outside the Matrix and I felt good. Actually I felt better than good. I felt free. My seconds, minutes, and hours were my own. This was my first time without a cellphone since the late 90s in Bangkok. I could still write emails and messages on my iPad, but that was it, almost as if Alexander Graham Bell had never said those words to Mr. Watson in 1876. Everyone else in the world were trapped in the present ticking second by second into a digital future by the Cell Towers of Babble.

Free at last. Free at last.

The Last Words On A Landline Phone

Some eleven years after the end of the American Civil War, Alexander Graham Bell uttered the first words over a telephone in 1876 to his assistant.

"Mr. Watson - come here - I want to see you."

Since then millions of trillions of words have been spoke over landlines, however since the advent of cellular phones people talk less and less on landlines and I predict the last sentence said by a caller will be, "Call me on my cell."

Or as the world descends into chaos in 2050, "Hey, man, take care of yourself. We are so fucked."

The First Words On A Telephone

On March 10, 1876 Alexander Graham Bell said the first words on a telephone to his assistant, Thomas Watson, "Mr. Watson--come here--I want to see you."

Five years later the native of Salem Massachusetts resigned his position with Bell to farm stones in East Braintree, then became a successful Shakespearean actor until founding the Fore River Shipyard in 1883.

The Shipyard provided thousands of well-paying jobs to men and women.

Hundreds of Ocean Liners, Battleships, Cruisers, Destroyers and Submarines slid down the slideway into the Fore River.

When my family moved from Maine to the South South in 1960, we stayed the first night at Eddie's Motor Lodge across from the shipyard. I recall standing at the motel window and seeing the derricks looking over the trees illuminated by floodlights. My father told me to go to bed. He hated my insomnia.

The Shipyard was on the way to Nantasket Beach. A fried food shack and a cheap gas station sat at the roundabout to the Fore River Bridge. The concrete drawbridge was a joyful sight. The ocean and Paragon Park were less than twenty minutes away.

As teenagers we drove down 3A to see bands and dance at the Surf Nantasket.

After our junior prom in 1969 our friends, my brother, and I ate at Cain's Lobster House. My date was Janet. My brother was with Ava Gardner, but somehow she ended up with our next-door neighbor. My brother rightly never forgave Carl for his bird-dogging him.

All of it's gone now, the Shipyard, the ships, the launches, the restaurants, the jobs, and the Quincy Quarries.

But Pete's Bar is still open and I go there any time I'm in Quincy with my lost nephew, Matt St. John. Old strangers come up to me and ask my name. A few I knew back in the 1960s and for us fifty years ago was more than a memory.

They are life.

"Mr Watson - come here - I want to see you."