Daily Memory

When we lived in our super groovy psychedelic 1970's fun house, we had the main house telephone in the kitchen. And because it was the super groovy psychedelic 70's, it was a black wall mounted rotary phone.

Well, I had a best friend named Amy, and we would normally just meet in the park next to our house and play. It was never scheduled, she just always happened to be there when I was. But this day she wasn't at the park. WTF? So my mother gives me her phone number and tells me to call her and we can make a play date. Never having used a telephone before I was excited to pop that cherry.

I scoot the not quite made of wood dining chair over our linoleum floor so that I could reach Mr. Bell's invention and make the first of many play dates that would be unsuccessful, for many reasons. I climb my 5 year old self up and take the receiver from the hook. Tentatively I put my little fingers into the holes with the corresponding number and spin the dial to the silver stopper and release it with a symphony of clicks. It wasn't until I was three digits into the number when I couldn't find the hyphen. panicking, I hung up and most likely went to play in a card board box.