This generation will never know that step into adulthood, when you get your first apartment and phone and see your name, published. On the other hand, so interesting that we talk about getting doxxed when once our phone numbers and addresses were readily available...at least to those in our own cities or towns, or by calling 411. I so appreciate this post.
I remember looking my own name up after getting my first apartment and being absolutely gobsmacked to discover: There were four other women with my name in New York City. It made the city feel so huge.
I'm 39, so I'm part of that generation that still is old enough to remember phone books and making prank calls and the like. I remember calling my middle school crush and having first talk to her dad and ask for her. Kids nowadays will never know the sweet mortification that this was.
What's interesting is that for the first 11 years of my life I grew up in Cuba and a family member of mine had a rotary phone. And my grandma's neighbor had one, too. It was a small luxury to have that back then in Havana.
I used it to drop it on the oversized cockroach that occasionally appeared in my East Village living space. I wouldn't remove it for weeks until I was sure it was a truly hardened carapace. Thank you for honoring one of my most missed objects from the, alas, near past.
I worked for the "phone company" NJ Bell after High School and telecom became my career. Asking people how they wanted their name in the directory and "directory" time was always something special. Watching the technology grow with called id was the demise of prank calls. Great article since this particular dinosaur was such a high part of my life.
This reminds me of when I was in my 20s and my divorced aunt -- who bought an apartment in Manhattan on the other side of Central Park from me -- took back her maiden name, which resulted in us both having the same first initial and last name. It also resulted in several men calling me and asking for Jane. I then had to call her to provide the phone numbers of these men so she could return their calls if she wanted to (I certainly wasn’t going to give out her phone number to strangers calling from the white pages!). I have to admit I was a little jealous of Aunt Jane. She seemed to have a pretty active social life (thinking about this now, she was probably around the age I am now -- 59) back then.
So many things generations will never know. Rotary phones. Changing your own oil in your car. And of course, phone books, My grandmother was a tiny woman... 4' 10' ... and she used phone books to sit on so she could reach the steering wheel of her 1957 Buick, I'm still not sure how her feet reached the gas and brake pedals. Without that phone book, she couldn't drive to the hairdresser.
Leah, your fans already beat me to the punch. Ditto to everything. I'll just add that my late husband had a thing about phone books. He read them. Really. Cover to cover. When we traveled to other cities he would look for them in hotels, check out the last names to get a sense of the ethnic diversity of a place. And yes, looking for your own name to be sure you still exist? My heart be still.
I remember how it was such a mark of my independence when 22-year-old me had an apartment and landline of my own, with my own listing in the phone book (first and middle initials, only, as many single women did at the time).
And I’m sure many of you remember calling for the correct local time and weather! Brings to mind the Old 97s line from the song “Big Brown Eyes” -- “I’m calling time and temperature just for some company...”
In the Hartford, Connecticut directory there was an entry for "Soft Egg". Most people would never have known except there was a newspaper article about it. And when we were kids the ultimate display of strength was to tear the phone book in half. I could never do that, but I saw an athlete on the Art Linkletter show on television tear one in half.
This was great. To me, it was amazing how many celebrities did not have unlisted numbers. When I was about 23 and had nothing to do on a Saturday night, I decided to find out what intellectuals do on Saturday night," and I called Dwight Macdonald, Elizabeth Hardwick, Diana Trilling and other writers and literary critics who were in the Manhattan phone book. Most of them were sitting at home like me!
I once was staying in Manhattan from Florida in the summer when I was a community college teacher and as I was leaving the apartment building to go to the airport very early in the morning, I found that stack of phone books that had been delivered, so I took one and stuck it in my luggage. I also remember once picking up a Los Angeles phone book on a trip.
As a kid in the 1950s and 1960s, we had party lines in our summer bungalows in Rockaway and I remember I would just put my hand over the receiver and listen to other people's conversations. No one ever caught me. It also made me aware that people could probably be listening to my grandparents' conversations and I cautioned them not to discuss anything too personal over the phone.
The only funny person who answered was Dwight Macdonald's wife, who answered the phone, listened to my spiel about the "survey," and said, "I'll tell you what one intellectual is doing. He's watching Kojak!"
This generation will never know that step into adulthood, when you get your first apartment and phone and see your name, published. On the other hand, so interesting that we talk about getting doxxed when once our phone numbers and addresses were readily available...at least to those in our own cities or towns, or by calling 411. I so appreciate this post.
I remember looking my own name up after getting my first apartment and being absolutely gobsmacked to discover: There were four other women with my name in New York City. It made the city feel so huge.
I'm 39, so I'm part of that generation that still is old enough to remember phone books and making prank calls and the like. I remember calling my middle school crush and having first talk to her dad and ask for her. Kids nowadays will never know the sweet mortification that this was.
I’m twice as old as you, and our first rotary wall phone was on a party line.
What's interesting is that for the first 11 years of my life I grew up in Cuba and a family member of mine had a rotary phone. And my grandma's neighbor had one, too. It was a small luxury to have that back then in Havana.
❤️
My eye doctor has a “yellow pages replica” booster seat for his little patients. It always makes me chuckle.
Hilarious.
I used it to drop it on the oversized cockroach that occasionally appeared in my East Village living space. I wouldn't remove it for weeks until I was sure it was a truly hardened carapace. Thank you for honoring one of my most missed objects from the, alas, near past.
Love this. And yes. To more odes on telephone directories, and other such ephemera of our past.
I worked for the "phone company" NJ Bell after High School and telecom became my career. Asking people how they wanted their name in the directory and "directory" time was always something special. Watching the technology grow with called id was the demise of prank calls. Great article since this particular dinosaur was such a high part of my life.
Fingers walking in an analog world was far more interesting than finger walking in the digital one.
This reminds me of when I was in my 20s and my divorced aunt -- who bought an apartment in Manhattan on the other side of Central Park from me -- took back her maiden name, which resulted in us both having the same first initial and last name. It also resulted in several men calling me and asking for Jane. I then had to call her to provide the phone numbers of these men so she could return their calls if she wanted to (I certainly wasn’t going to give out her phone number to strangers calling from the white pages!). I have to admit I was a little jealous of Aunt Jane. She seemed to have a pretty active social life (thinking about this now, she was probably around the age I am now -- 59) back then.
😂
So many things generations will never know. Rotary phones. Changing your own oil in your car. And of course, phone books, My grandmother was a tiny woman... 4' 10' ... and she used phone books to sit on so she could reach the steering wheel of her 1957 Buick, I'm still not sure how her feet reached the gas and brake pedals. Without that phone book, she couldn't drive to the hairdresser.
If she was like me she secured a brick under the petal!! Honest!! Or later, wore platform shoes!!
Probably the brick. She was more the "sensible shoes" kind of lady. :)
My bible to every new city I had to work in. I travelled a lot for work. More than a map, the yellow pages actually told me where I could find things.
This evokes such a bittersweet longing, and is so well written. Thank you!
Thank YOU!
This is awesome! We all were like Steve Martin when the new ones arrived.
Leah, your fans already beat me to the punch. Ditto to everything. I'll just add that my late husband had a thing about phone books. He read them. Really. Cover to cover. When we traveled to other cities he would look for them in hotels, check out the last names to get a sense of the ethnic diversity of a place. And yes, looking for your own name to be sure you still exist? My heart be still.
I remember how it was such a mark of my independence when 22-year-old me had an apartment and landline of my own, with my own listing in the phone book (first and middle initials, only, as many single women did at the time).
And I’m sure many of you remember calling for the correct local time and weather! Brings to mind the Old 97s line from the song “Big Brown Eyes” -- “I’m calling time and temperature just for some company...”
In the Hartford, Connecticut directory there was an entry for "Soft Egg". Most people would never have known except there was a newspaper article about it. And when we were kids the ultimate display of strength was to tear the phone book in half. I could never do that, but I saw an athlete on the Art Linkletter show on television tear one in half.
This was great. To me, it was amazing how many celebrities did not have unlisted numbers. When I was about 23 and had nothing to do on a Saturday night, I decided to find out what intellectuals do on Saturday night," and I called Dwight Macdonald, Elizabeth Hardwick, Diana Trilling and other writers and literary critics who were in the Manhattan phone book. Most of them were sitting at home like me!
I once was staying in Manhattan from Florida in the summer when I was a community college teacher and as I was leaving the apartment building to go to the airport very early in the morning, I found that stack of phone books that had been delivered, so I took one and stuck it in my luggage. I also remember once picking up a Los Angeles phone book on a trip.
As a kid in the 1950s and 1960s, we had party lines in our summer bungalows in Rockaway and I remember I would just put my hand over the receiver and listen to other people's conversations. No one ever caught me. It also made me aware that people could probably be listening to my grandparents' conversations and I cautioned them not to discuss anything too personal over the phone.
Love all of these anecdotes, Richard, especially the one about ringing up intellectuals on a Saturday night.
The only funny person who answered was Dwight Macdonald's wife, who answered the phone, listened to my spiel about the "survey," and said, "I'll tell you what one intellectual is doing. He's watching Kojak!"
Kojak, omg. Amazing.