Let Freedom, and Landlines, Ring

“Your Mom is 90!! I thought I was talking to a 20-year-old right now!” I assured the Xfinity man that I was, in fact, 47 years old or “old”. “Yeah, she’s old.” my daughter added, chiming in with her 12-year-old sass from the passenger seat of the car. My conversation with Eli had begun about a half hour earlier in the house but we had places to be so Eli hit the road with us, complete with me giving a driving lesson to J.D. for part of it.

The journey with our cable provider began long ago when Mom switched her landline to a cellphone on a weekend that I was away. I knew it was both a bold and bad move for a woman who had never used a smartphone but she was adamant and the damage had already been done. A portal to a whole new universe was on its way—a Samsung Galaxy. “Okay” I said which is sometimes the best choice of all words. The whole process took days and a little sweat to switch the 50-year-old number over to a cellphone. But, at long last, it was connected and she has had it ever since. That is until I went away again for another weekend.

I had already been forewarned by my brother that Mom had made yet another call to Xfinity. “I made a decision.” she announced when I got home. “I want my landline back.” She went on to explain the why, the how, the more than one hour conversation she had with the “nicest man from the Philippines.” I shuddered to think about what the process was going to be to switch back to a landline. I feel like our poor internet and cable provider has gone through somewhat of a vasectomy only to have it reversed that same month. Ouch.

After nearly two weeks of waiting for the landline to be reconnected, I called again to let them know it was still not working. After a few reconfigurations on their end, they told me to wait an hour and if it was still not working then someone from the advanced technical support team would call. Now I felt special. An hour passed. It still wasn’t working. That brought us to Eli and our conversation that spilled over to a driving hour in the car and a trip to Savers to donate some clothes. After several attempts, Eli finally admitted that maybe he couldn’t fix the problem from God knows where so he would arrange a technician to come out. Next available date? The 4th of July. Even Xfinity is ignorant of the holiday’s true meaning.

“While I have you on the line, I should tell you that your mother is eligible for a smart watch.” Oh, Eli. What, on Earth, would Mary do with a smart watch? “Thanks, Eli, but I think my Mom would settle for a significant break in her bill and for the Hallmark Channel to be restored.” I got put on hold. When Eli returned, he started with the word “unfortunately” which meant no bill break, no Hallmark. “How about that smartwatch?” I asked and he laughed. I wasn’t kidding, he thought I was. Little did Eli know that I am the kind of woman who saves ketchup packets and tiny bottles of shampoo because “you never know”. Of course I’ll take a free watch.

When Luis arrived on the morning of July 4th, all three women at home were braless and in varying states of dishevelry. We were preparing for a cookout and Barb, my sister, had showed up the night before to help get things going. But, things weren’t going as smoothly as we had hoped and Luis’ arrival threw us all off. By 10:30 am, Mom looked as though she was starting to hyperventilate over a pot of freshly boiled red bliss potatoes. “You’re going to need to sit down, eat an English muffin, and take some deep breaths.” I commanded as she looked at me in disbelief. “No sense in ruining a perfectly good potato salad.” With that I ushered her to the living room and quartered each potato, breathing a little more deeply with every slice.

“So, we got your landline working. This is the number, right?” Luis said as he rattled off a 339 number that was about as foreign to us as a distal planet. “No, our number should be…” He winced. We explained that we had switched to and then back from a cell phone and attempted to move the number that had been ours since 1972. “I feel like we are trying to reopen a portal to the 70s and it just can’t be done, am I right?” He laughed, we all did. Long story short? Yes, that portal is closed. Long story concluding? Mom has a landline again, albeit with a 339 number. “If the worst thing you have to do is get used to a new number then so be it.” I told her, sending Luis on his way after verifying that he did, in fact, get paid double time for working a national holiday.

We yawn now after a busy weekend of shenanigans mixed with joy, fireworks, family, and shared love. My family is off to camp this week, the first time ever. May the next adventure begin….