The transfer process can work up a thirst
Mimosa any one?
Now who do you suppose would have that written on a fluorescent green index card and stuck inside an address/telephone book that’s seen way better days, way better years and decades, actually?
I’m raising my hand here. Guilty as charged.
“What’s that doing in there?” Better Half asked when he saw me sorting through all the junk that has no business whatsoever being in an old-school address/telephone book that we keep near our — wait for it — yes, a landline phone.
Why I put that index card in there I don’t know — I admit that I do like the color fluorescent green — but maybe I thought I’d use this particular card again.
I had had a small Christmas gathering one year and was feeling “host-essy most-essy” and decided I had to write a description of what was out to eat or drink.
Lord have mercy.
It seemed like a great idea at the time.
Anyway, this poor little book has been in great decay for a long time now, its front and back covers no longer even connected to each other.
So very sad.
Any time we go to use it, to seek out someone’s actual phone number or address, it falls apart in your hands, and all its contents — what belongs in there and what doesn’t — spill out all over the floor or wherever.
You’d think we’d know better by now, but we Kiaskis are forever the lost mice scurrying through the maze, forever in search of that elusive piece of colby jack cheese.
Maybe that’s why we never call anybody very often unless we know their numbers by heart.
It’s just too stressful looking for them. Ditto for addresses.
If you haven’t guessed it already, we’re not the greatest at contact lists of phone numbers in cell phones.
Anyway, I think I finally reached the breaking point and said, that’s it. We’re getting a new address/telephone book.
It might as well have been Christmas of 1983 and I was looking for a Cabbage Patch doll for a Christmas gift. Wow!
Ask in a store where you might find an address/telephone book, and you’ll get a laugh or a look. The laugh is from someone around your age who reassures — they don’t make those anymore, lady! — or a young person who’s never heard of such a thing. Huhh?
Better Half and I actually did find one when we were in an old-time five-and-dime type store, and I thought, yes! We are going to get our life in order now.
What a relief.
So I finally sat down and began the process of transferring numbers and addresses, discovering sadly that some of the names were among the dearly departed.
Others had moved so many times they had their multiple nomadic listings with X pen slashes through them all.
Among other things, this old book had expired coupons, recipes, pieces of paper with numbers but no names.
How very useful.
And there were names and addresses written on a piece of cardboard torn from the packaging for a four-pack of yogurt.
We are so very pathetic.
The undertaking really took a lot out of me.
I worked up the need for an adult beverage.
(Kiaski, a resident of Richmond, is a staff columnist and community editor for the Herald-Star and The Weirton Daily Times. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)