Old technology is wonderful until it dies
- col-teri-stein
- June 29, 2025
- 1010
There is a lot of stuff in our house that is old, and we are just hoping it lasts. It’s too old to get decent replacement parts for this ancient technology, and besides, we just don’t want the hassle.
So far most of our old stuff is hanging in there, with the exception of the doorbell ringer that sounds in the basement.
I was in the basement the other night at 11:30 p.m. and was just getting ready to retire for the evening.
Ding-dong. Who is at our back door at this time? Anyone we know would surely call or text before stopping by at this late hour.
I headed up the steps to look for my security man/husband.
“Did you hear the doorbell,” I asked when I got to the living room.
“Yes, did you look out?” Joe asked.
I had to go right by the back door on my way to the living room, but I’m not looking out. I’m old too, and I’ve watched too many episodes of “Dateline,” “20/20” and the show “I Survived.”
“You go,” I said.
Of course, Joe looks out and no one is there. I didn’t feel silly though; I just have a strong sense of survival.
One time when my grandmother lived by herself, she inadvertently watched the movie “Crawlspace” on television. It was a 1972 made-for-TV movie about a childless couple who discover there is a homeless young man named Richard living in the crawl space of their home.
They try to help him, overlooking the advice of the local sheriff. Richard soon exhibits criminal behavior and violent outbursts that did not lead to a happy ending.
Grandma had a small basement area and a larger crawlspace under part of her old farm-style house. She was not going down there for nothing. And you know how old houses creak and groan at night. I doubt she ever got over it, but Grandma just had a strong sense of survival. That’s probably who I got it from.
Another time I was sitting in the living room in the afternoon, and I heard an extremely loud crash. It was pouring rain, and I saw two cars had smashed into each other about a block away. I called 911, grabbed my umbrella and went to help. Fortunately, there also were some other people there to help too.
I’m not an insurance agent, but one of the cars looked totaled to me. The distraught driver was standing outside his car at the time. His driver’s door wouldn’t open, so he asked me to crawl in across the front seat and grab a car key. I think this was BCP or before cellphones, so it was a long time ago. I agreed until I got a look at the front seat of the car. It was a petri dish of varying shades of brown stains of all sizes and piles of trash. My sense of survival kicked in, and I could not make myself go in there.
Anyway, back to the crazy doorbell issue. I decided to head upstairs while my alert security man napped on the couch. I mean he was watching an essential television show he could not miss.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
What could be wrong with that doorbell speaker? We have only had it about 30-40 years. Surely, this name-brand doorbell ringer was built to last. Joe had a project on his hands; he had to try to figure out how to fix it. I don’t know what he did, but it involved tools and taking things apart.
He put everything back in its place, and we settled into the living room, happy some old technology had been saved. At this point it might last us the rest of our lives.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
Well, maybe not.