Sleeping, Thunder Jugs & Phone Sex

If I could hold conversations with Abraham Lincoln and a talking hedgehog, and maybe learn a little sign language for the guy in the deep-sea diving outfit, I probably would have to use the product they are hawking on a daily basis just to shut up the hedgehog. Or maybe Lincoln first. Lincoln should sound like the "Savior of the Union", but he comes off more like a psychiatrist trying to talk down a jumper. If you are unfamiliar with this TV commercial - well, just keep going.

Who needs to remember dreams anymore. With the proper sleep aid, REM can come and go and no one will notice. Just like the band. If you are unfamiliar with either dreams, or the band REM, or what REM Sleep is - well, just keep going.

Sleeping is an art form that is best learned and practiced by the young. Due to gravity and the distension of aging internal organs, unless one refrains from liquids from 5pm on, the night becomes a stumbling, bleary eyed procession of relief. I have come to realize that in some respects, we have regressed from the common sense approach to life our ancestors practiced.

My wife and I visited the battlefield at Sackett's Harbor today along with a grandson and nephew. In this early morning tour of the Commandant's Home curiosity was aroused by the appearance of this pristine, white pot, with cover, that was placed on the floor, next to the Commandant's bed. I am proud to say that both children are now familiar with the concept of a chamberpot, or "thunder jug", as it was often called in the 19th Century and points prior.

It brought to mind the conversation I had with my son just before he left for college. We had asked if his phone number was going to be the same, since he was in the same "quad", or whatever they call their grouping of rooms. As it turns out, he didn't know because he was slated to get a different room within the "quad". I jokingly said that since they shared a common area as roommates, they should share a "party line" for their phone.

"What's a party line?"

If I needed any further confirmation of the fact that somethings can become ancient within the space of 56 years, I had just received it in the form of a question.

For those uninitiated in the use and protocols of a party line, let me explain.

First, there was one phone. Not per room, not per level - one phone and it hung in between the kitchen and the living room. I have a couple of photos where you can see the phone. It didn't get around much, and there just weren't that many pictures taken with that background. The phone hung on the wall. I'm not talking about some little, black, plastic number, I'm talking about Mayberry RFD wooden receiver, complete with the piece you put to your ear whilst you speak into the big old phone itself.

This was soon replaced by the little, black, plastic number. I may have used the Mayberry model, but I only remember it because of the photos. But it was still the only phone, right in the middle of life where Mom, Dad and five other brothers and sisters often took as much interest in your phone conversations as you did.

Or as much interest as some of the neighbors. When you did finally manage to get your turn on the line, stuff, as they say, would happen. It would range from the blatant: "Will you kids please get off the line so someone else can make a call!", to the subtle "click" when one would try to join in the listening end of the conversation unannounced.

If there was phone sex on the party lines of the 1950's, it was beyond my capacity to recognize, and way beyond what people of that era would have done. At least in Lewis County, I don't know about Jefferson.

And that, dear reader, concludes our journey from sleeping aid commercial, back through the valley of "thunder jugs", across the wires of the "party line", having at last arrived, back in the 21st Century where phone sex is old hat.

What's the point you may ask?

If you're male, get a chamber pot and use it. It will make sleeping much less stressful and is certain to, pardon the phrase, "piss off" those who require a different position.

Oh, and if the phone rings in the middle of the night, let the answering machine get it - it could be someone from Jefferson County.