My "Hello" was followed by silence. Then the response from the other party was "Uh, who is that?" So I suggest, "Uh, you called me. Who are YOU?" This could've gone on all night. This time the long pause was followed by, "Uh, is Havana there?" Then I realized this was a little girls voice. "Oh, I'm sorry is that Tiara?" "No, its Marnay." "Hang on. I'll get Havana." With hand covering the phone's mouthpiece, I whisper to Karen, "It's a bloody call for Havana. From Marnay." Her first person-to-person, ever.
As usual Havana's parents were entertaining a bunch of lefty union people. A unionist from Columbia and another from Brazil. The girls were hunkered down in a snowstorm with Winnie the Pooh, in another room.
I pass Havana the phone. She has talked on the phone before but never got a call before. "It's Marnay." I pause the movie. Havana listens to the phone and tells me there's no-one there. I take it back and check that Marnay is still there. I nudge Havana, "you have to talk first, before the other person responds." "Oh," she nodds. ". . . . uh, Hi Marnay"
I returned to the meeting with the international comrades, giving her some privacy. And a couple of minutes later Havana yells, "Dad, I'm done with the phone!"
Later that evening Karen asked her how her first phone call went. "Well, she asked me what I was doing. I said watching a movie. Then I asked her what she was doing. And she said she wasn't doing nothing." This appeared to be the full extent of the conversation.
At this point in Havana's story-telling, she got animated with her hands, and her urban accent got ratcheted up. "What does she mean 'nothing?' I mean she's on the phone isn't she?. . . She has to be doing something. She musta been standing there or something. How can you not be doing nothing." She was perplexed. Perhaps small talk is good for the playground, but not the phone.
As the world around us are twittering and even texting, Karen and I often feel that we're not sure we want to keep up with each new breakthrough in so-called communication. But it was nice to know that someone younger than us is more comfortable small-talking in person than through some form of technology. I know. It's just one of life's temporary hiccups, but it was nice to have it while it was here.
