What Would Jimmy Do?

Yesterday, we discussed the demise of telephone booths. I was thinking that even in the very small town of Maysville, we had a couple of telephone booths when I was young. But if you’ve read this blog over the years, you know that when we got our first telephone, it had no dial — you just picked it up and the operator answered. Maysville was so small, everyone knew everyone and the operator always called you by name.

Of course as technology advanced, we got modern phones that actually had dials on them, even though our telephone “number” only had two digits. But there was still an operator, and in Maysville she still placed calls for most people. Even when you went to big cities like Oklahoma City, you could dial zero from any phone and talk to an operator.

Well…. that got me to thinking — when was the last time I dialed “zero” on a phone? Would an operator still answer?
When I was little, one of the things we learned was that we could dial 0 to reach an operator. And operators could help with all sorts of stuff — she could tell you the time, call the fired department or police department for you or give you a telephone number. 

Just out of curiosity, today I dialed 0 on my iPhone. I got a recording telling me to dial 911 for an emergency and that I could reach “customer service” by dialing 611.
It seems like “0” has gone the way of the horse and buggy — and operator.
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Today is International Find a Pay Phone Booth Day. If, for some reason, you’ve tried to find one lately, you know that they are on the endangered species list. I have heard that pay phone booths are still “out there,” but I haven’t seen one in a long time. So I guess that this is a call for action day. I would assume that the reason for this day is to encourage everyone to go out and find a pay phone booth. 

Since this blog is notorious for keeping readers informed, I should mention that the first pay phone booth was called a telephone cabinet. The first phone booths were enclosed, rectangular boxes, made of wooden frames with glass walls — later models were made of metal frames and usually plexiglass walls. 

When I was young, you could find a phone booth just about anywhere you looked. They were on street corners, restaurants and all public buildings like court houses, airports, and bus or train stations. The arrival of cell phones was the kiss of death for phone booths, and it happened very fast. I’m not aware of any pay phones in Shepherdstown, but I’ve been told there ares a few, that still work, in the surrounding area. Just another thing you can tell your grandkids about that they won’t know what you’re talking about.

Alexander Graham Bell was granted the first patent for his telephone on March 7, 1876, and made the world’s first telephone call on March 10, 1876 — making this a very appropriate date for International Find a Pay Phone Booth Day. Phone service was established at the White House one year after its invention, making Rutherford B. Hayes the first president to have telephone service.

Again, following this blog’s policy for keeping you informed — Alexander Graham Bell refused to have a telephone in his study because he was afraid it would distract him from his scientific work. I’m pretty sure he could already foresee all the spam calls. 

Thomas Doolittle invented the first telephone booth in 1878 —users could place calls between two towns for 15 cents. The booth was patented in 1883.

Originally, all phone booths could receive incoming calls… people could wait for a call, or a call-back. The incoming call feature was stopped sometime in the 1980s — the phone company claimed it helped drug dealers. 

International Find a Pay Telephone Booth Day was created by Bob Matthews of Rochester, NY in 2018. He happened to stumble on a phone booth in a local mall and realized they were becoming increasingly rare and thought it important recognize this soon to be relic before they completely disappeared. 

I encourage everyone to make a concentrated effort to find a phone booth today — this is not one of those phony holidays. The disappearance of phone booths is a serious problem and if we fail to act we can only blame ourselves for the rise in crime and violence. We removed all the phone booths and now Superman has nowhere to change.
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I read an article the other day and it referred to someone’s ring finger. It occurred to me that I immediately knew that they were referring to the finger next to the “little” finger — on the left hand. Well, that got me to thinking about how I knew that. The reason I knew it was because I’ve always heard that finger referred to as the “ring finger.” But why is that?

Thank goodness for my extensive research…. turns out that the selection of that finger as the ring finger is not definitely known. But — there are a few theories, the more popular one being…. that before medical science discovered how the circulatory system functioned, people believed that a vein ran directly from the fourth finger on the left hand to the heart. In fact, the descriptive Latin name vena amoris was chosen for this vein — the vein of love. With the heart at the center of your emotions, this was thought to be the best finger to wear your wedding/engagement ring on — it showed to all the world a symbol of your forever love and that your heart had been claimed by another.
Science has since proven that every single finger has veins running to the heart, but even though the science may not support it, the romantic notion remains. 

Wearing your wedding ring on the left hand isn’t a global practice. In Russia, Norway, Germany and India, the ring is worn on the right hand. This might be because of some evil association with the word “left” — “sinister” comes from a Latin word that means “on the left side.” Also, I seem to remember that in India, the left hand is considered unclean. 

On a related subject, wedding rings used to be worn almost entirely by women — from what I can tell, the practice of men wearing rings began to pick up during the 1st and 2nd World Wars, when married soldiers started to wear rings to remind them of their partner.
It’s kind of interesting how this, like most/all traditions evolve…. there’s usually some kind of logic, or at least a reason behind it.
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There’s been a lot in the news about today (March 4) — at least one radical group claiming that former President Trump will be inaugurated as the new President…. (Spoiler Alert — that won’t happen.)

Anyhow, until the ratification of the Twentieth Amendment to the Constitution in 1933, the official day for presidential inaugurations was March 4. When the fourth fell on a Sunday, the ceremonies were held on March 5. (That occurred in 1821, 1849, 1877, and 1917.)

The first first president (George Washington) was not inaugurated until April 30. Congress scheduled the first inauguration for March 4, 1789, but they were unable to count the electoral ballots as soon as anticipated, so the first inauguration was postponed to allow the president-elect time to make the trip from his home in Virginia to the nation’s capital in New York City. 

The passage of the 20th Amendment, Nicknamed the Lame Duck Amendment, moved the inauguration date from March 4th to January 20th. The amendment also changed the opening date for a new Congress to January 3rd to eliminate extended lame duck congressional sessions. 

Franklin Delano Roosevelt was sworn into office on January 20, 1937 along with Vice President John Name Garner and became the first president to be sworn in on the new date set by the 20th amendment. This was the beginning of Roosevelt’s second term as president. 

So we don’t give March 4 much thought except in times like these when groups like QAnon promote conspiracies…..
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A couple of days ago I was reading the “joke” page in the back of the AARP newsletter and it listed some things you feel and think that means you are getting old. Well, that got me to thinking about how my perceptions have changed over the years — not that I’m “old,” but I have to admit that I’m getting older.

When you get older, you get wiser (or so I’ve been told.) So I’ve kind of grown up wth this idea in my head about what it means to be old. I just assumed that when old age came around I’d know right off the bat — but I don’t think that’s the case…. I don’t think there’s any warning that old age is coming for you — it just shows up.

I think some of the signs it may have showed up here is that I’ve noticed that my favorite music is now considered “elevator music,” I seem to pay more attention to the weather report than the news, I see that there is more food in our refrigerator than beer, sleeping on the couch makes my back hurt, and a $5.00 bottle of wine is no longer “pretty good stuff.”

I seem to be forgetting people’s names, even more than usual and find that I really enjoy being asked for my ID. I’ve completely lost touch with everyday technology, like iPads and our TV. I feel tired when I wake up in the morning. I remember when we got a daily newspaper delivered. I find myself complaining about more and more things (if that’s even possible.) 

Anyhow, it’s kind of disturbing to realize that old age isn’t coming for you — it’s already here. But, you know what that say — the good thing about being old is not being young— 30 —

March may be named after the Roman god of war but it’s one of the happier months for me. We’re finally rid of February and psychologically I just feel better when the first of March rolls around. So here we are into the third month of the year, or if we did it (maybe right) like the Romans once did, the first. Their year was only ten months long and began in March. As I’ve mentioned before, to the Romans, January and February were just two nameless months they called “winter.”

Besides making us “think” that spring is almost here, some interesting activities fall in March. 
I mentioned that March was named for the Roman god of war — it could be just a coincidence, but with the exception of the recent war in Afghanistan, almost all major U.S.or NATO led military operations since the invasion of Vietnam have begun in the month of March.

And we have the Ides of March to look forward to, or beware of…. as you probably remember, on the Roman calendar, the midpoint of every month was known as the Ides. That whole story about the Ides of March made popular by Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar probably got a lot more press than it deserved. If someone tells you “beware the Ides of March,” they’re just being a jerk, or trying to impress you that they’ve read Shakespeare.

Another thing you always hear about March is that if it comes in like a lion, it’ll go out like a lamb. I suppose this just begs for some extensive research to see if there’s any truth to it or not, but maybe I’ll leave that exercise for next year. 

One of my favorite days in March is Pi Day, on 3/14 — a day filled with math jokes, pi-reciting competitions and, of course, eating real pie. But the big day in March is St. Patrick’s Day, a day of just one giant party that doesn’t require any gifts. 
And March is also the month of the Vernal Equinox, when the sun shines on the equator giving us a near 50-50 split of light and darkness.

While we’re talking about the significance of March, I think I’ve got to mention that, sadly, it contains a special holiday that I’m afraid will have to come to an end soon. March 10th is International Find a Phone Booth Day. Phone Booths, especially in the US are becoming harder and harder to find and I fear they will go the way of the fax machine, blueprints and slide rule. I suppose all good things have to end, but it’s still March, a good month that maybe does deserve to be the first month of the year….
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I think it was T. S. Eliot that wrote, “April is the cruelest month.” I don’t want to get into an argument with a famous writer, but I’m afraid I have to disagree — it’s not April, it’s February. Both you faithful readers know that I hate (maybe that’s too strong a word) February. I try to celebrate all the great “holidays” in the month, but really, February is long, cold and none of its holidays really serve any point. 

But, finally, today is the last day of February. This year it had only 28 days, but it seems like it was seventy three days long. Actually, February would be too long if it only had eight or nine days. If I had my way, we’d go back to the way the Romans did it, and only have ten months a year. February, and maybe some other month, needs to go. And I should mention that on top of everything else, February is the hardest month to spell.

I know I can’t change the calendar and I can’t change the weather and I should just accept things as they are, but the cruel and heartless month of February is hard to accept — it has no redeeming qualities. So beginning tomorrow, we get 11 straight months to enjoy. Good riddance, February.
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A few days ago, Claire said she was going to Costco later in the week and one of things she wanted to get was tuna fish. I’m not sure why, but it occurred to me when she said it, that it was redundant. I’m pretty sure that tuna can only be a fish, so it isn’t necessary to mention fish. 

I think I’ve touched on this before, but our language is filled with redundancies…. I often see advertisements offering a “free gift.” Watching congress debate recently, I heard the term “affluent rich” used a number of times. That seems redundant to me. Some other redundant phrases I’ve heard include: repeat again, revert back, proceed ahead, past history, honest truth, different varieties, and also — just to name a few. 

I did a little extensive research and found that the use of more words (or even word parts) than necessary to express an idea clearly is known as pleonasm. I would say that the use of redundant terms fall into that category. Another term or concept that I uncovered is “rhetorical tautology” that is essentially the same thing said more than once in different words — e.g., cold ice or burning fire. As usual, there’s no point to all this, my mind just wandered over to how strange, and sometimes stupid our language is — like when we use terms or descriptions such as hopelessly optimistic, Hell’s Angels, half true, bankrupt millionaire, jumbo shrimp, sanitary landfill or pretty ugly. 

These types of expressions are referred to as oxymorons — that’s when two incompatible words are used together in one expression. And while we’re on the subject, the correct plural of oxymoron is oxymora. But we continue to hear and use these expressions every day… we even turn a blind eye when they are as ridiculous as “House Ethics Committee.”
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All through my growing up years, from the time I was very young, I always had a pet of some kind. Over the years I had more dogs than I can remember, cats, hamsters, chickens, ducks, a skunk, parakeets, squirrels, gerbils, guinea pigs, rabbits, turtles, a crow, goldfish and probably a few others that escape my memory right now. 

I also had a horse — for about two or three days. The horse was a Shetland pony and it belonged to by cousin. My cousin was older, and bigger, than I was so my uncle got him a bigger horse — and he gave the pony to me. Even though we lived in the “city” of Maysville, we kept the horse in our back yard. The yard wasn’t huge, but it had a fence around it and was big enough for a horse. 

Now a kid that is only about six years old and has their own horse is a pretty cool kid. That was me — six years old and I had a horse. What could be better? 

Well, it turns out that from my perspective, a lot. My mother threw a fit — there was no way she was going to let me have a horse. You might think that she didn’t want a horse in the back yard tramping on the grass, or making a mess that had to be cleaned up regularly or making the backyard smell like a barnyard…. but no, my mother was afraid that a horse wasn’t safe for a little kid like me — apparently all sorts of bad things would happen, like falling off or getting trampled, or worse.

My dad did his best to go to bat for me, but after a few days, my mom convinced ( wore down) my dad and the horse went to live on a farm just outside Maysville.

Someone once said that a pony is a childhood dream and a horse is an adult treasure. I had that childhood dream…. at least for a little while — sigh.
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Today is George Washington’s birthday — well, one of them, anyway. I think we’ve touched on this before, but poor George has really had his birthday jerked around…. actually, for 47 of his 67 years, George Washington had two birthdays every year.

George was born on February 11th, 1732. Hold on…. in 1732, the Julian calendar (named for Julius Caesar) was in use in Great Britain, and in the US because we were colonies of Great Britain. 

But in 1752, when George was 20, Great Britain adopted the new, improved calendar instituted by Pope Gregory the 13th and of course imposed it on its colonies, including the US. 

The switch in calendars was made because the old calendar had become out of whack relative to the sun’s and earth’s cycles by many days. By 1752, it was off by eleven whole days. So those eleven days were simply dropped that year. The following February 1st was not February 2nd — it was February 11th. So George Washington’s birthday jumped all the way to February 22nd. 

The calendar change didn’t sit well with a lot of colonial communities and many refused to go along with it, but George apparently took the change in stride and, from 1752 on, accepted February 22nd as his birthday. 

However, give George credit — he took advantage of the situation to sometimes celebrate both days as his birthday. In 1799 he attended a gala birthday party in his honor in Alexandria, Virginia on February 11th. He wrote in his diary that night that he “went up to Alexandria for the celebration of my birthday.” Eleven days later, on February 22nd, 1799 he celebrated his second birthday of that year — which, sadly, turned out to be the last of his life. He died ten months later, on the evening of December 14, 1799.

It’s interesting that George Washington, our first President, had two real birthdays and we don’t celebrate either one of them. The best we can do is celebrate President’s Day on the 3rd Monday in February. Doesn’t seem fair…. but Happy Birthday George!!
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