My daughter once asked, “Do you always answer your cell phone?” She was apparently shocked that every time she called, she got me, instead of voicemail. She might even mistakenly have thought I always wanted to hear from her. I had to inform her that that I answer ALL calls, since I never really know who’s calling.
Then, she asked: “Why don’t you use caller ID?” and I said: “Even if the caller ID tells me who it is, I can’t see it. “ I don’t bother to inform her of another wrinkle in the mix: Most of the time I’m too frazzled to think straight, for in trying to answer the cell, I’ve come off a race against the clock, searching all compartments of my bag to find it. Why? Because I neglected to put it back in its designated pouch, top inside pocket…again.
When I finally find it, I’m breathlessly at the mercy of whoever’s on the other end. I pick up and say, “Hello,” and await the response.
Oh, I’ve tried to read the caller ID. Often, I’m outside and the glare on the cell phone, along with my aging eyes, makes that impossible.
Needing glasses for reading poses other problems, too. Sometimes my husband and I realize we’ve both forgotten our glasses, after we’re in the booth, of a restaurant, about to select from the menu. Now, we need to rely on a (usually) far younger waiter who zips through menu choices, in a blur. We pretend to recall what he says; we don’t want to admit another age-related problem…short term memory loss.
We order hamburgers, instead; it’s easier that way.
Some restaurants have gotten way smarter in this quarter and offer a selection of reading glasses on loan from a bin, similar to the way some fancier restaurants gave out sports jackets to males in an era when dress codes were required.
I think a better way is if we all learn Braille and have that lettering on menus. That way we could finger the menu, never needing to carry glasses.
Biddy’s solution is all inclusive. It’s even politically-correct.