It is difficult to stop, a prattler. Telephones, give people the opportunity, to talk longer. They are in the comfort of their space, wherever they called from, at that time. And, it feels rude to stop, the blatherer.
When I hear the telephone ring, I cringe, rarely picking it up. Whatever the person on the other end has to say, they can tell me, in text. I cannot stand the phone, against my ear.
There is so much to be said. Callers mostly, chatter along, non stop. My thought was always that a telephone was made for messages and important information. The rest can be written in e-mail or text or even a letter as a last resort. Yes, letters, remember? The paper placed in an envelope with postage stamp and all, yep.
Text is limited. It is concise and compressed. Most everyone, tends to write in short hand, when on text. I happen to like that. You say what you have to say without dissertations. Yammering on and on, needing to hear your own voice does not make for conversation.
Besides, phone lines are jammed as it is, with people chattering across the copper thinking that what they say is most important. My father told me, as a teenager that it is important to respect the phone lines and the press of people on it. Telephones were an invention for business and contact, not yapping and blathering. So, when years later, I am on the phone with him and try to end the conversation, he gets bent out of shape. I suggested that he taught me that trait. He denied it, sigh.
I gather by now you got the message? I prefer text for sure. I can “get away”, if I need to. I can “hang up” without insult. I can “escape” when need be.
