tellyGreetings, my fellow port swillers!

Recently, Mrs. Robbo was going over our bill from Verizon, from whom we receive all of Port Swiller Manor’s communications, teevee  and innernet services in a bundled form, when she suddenly asked a question:  If we all have cell phones, why must we spend 50 bucks a month (or whatever it is) on a house land-line?

Why, indeed?  I have read of the growing all-wireless trend and I can understand the economic argument in its favor.

However, I believe this is one of those decisions in which the bottom line is not necessarily the, er, bottom line.

You see, Ol’ Robbo absolutely loathes the telephone.  I consider it to be invasive and enslaving, a gadget to which we, as a society, have surrendered our autonomy and privacy.  In fact, I almost never call anyone myself (except the Mothe on Sunday afternoons), and I also almost never answer when somebody calls us.  (I should say here that, contra my normally Luddite sympathies, I think Caller ID is one of the greatest modern inventions, evah.   I like knowing whose calls I’m refusing to pick up.)

So imagine my all-the-more-vehement hatred of a telephone that is not chained to the kitchen counter, but instead follows one around wherever one goes.   Yes, I have a cell phone.  But we hates it.  The only times I turn it on are when I’m in transit between home and teh office, or when I’m out on biznay travel.  And the only people who know my number are my immediate family.  (In fact, I don’t even remember it myself).   They’re only supposed to call me on it in emergency situations, but that limitation is abused on a fairly regular basis.  Thus, I often find myself trying to referee petty domestic squabbles while negotiating the G-Dub in 70 mph gridlock in the dark.   Haaaates it….

Anyhoo, were we to eliminate the Port Swiller Manor home phone, I would feel obligated not only to divulge my cell number to many more people, but also to keep the damned thing on most of the time.

I can’t accept that.

So in keeping a home land-line, I like to think we are preserving a bastion in defense of our, or at least my, privacy and freedom.  Nobody said that such things come cheap.