I had a 21st century moment the other day.
A telephone book came through our mail slot in London and landed with a bang on the floor. It was a mere shadow of a *real* phone book – probably measuring no more than 1/2 inch in diameter – but it was a bonafide phone book nonetheless.
My 15 year-old daughter picked it up, inspected it and turned to me, puzzled: “What’s that?” she asked.
My husband and I stared back in disbelief.
Not to go all 19th century on you, but man, did that make me feel old. And nostalgic.
I knew this because in a recent, Marie Kondo-inspired frenzy to declutter our home, my husband’s immediate instinct was to throw the phone book out. After all, who needs a phone book? It will just sit on a shelf somewhere gathering dust before invariably being tossed the next time we tidy up.
And yet, I found myself resisting throwing this one away. It felt as if – in giving it up – I was losing something powerful I might one day regret.
Read the rest of this post over on Better After 50…
Image: The Phone Book Listings by Brian Herzog via Flickr
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