Uncle Fun and Sparky Land

     You can tell that isn’t a Funsville phone book Sparky’s leafing through. No-one here would greet a caller quite so rudely. It is true that, if you call some households in town, the person who picks up will answer “What?What?What?” like Joe Flynn from McHale’s Navy…but it’s meant in a spirit of good-natured joviality. You see, it’s a holdover from a time when it was recognized by the FCC (that is, the Funsville Commissariat of Calling) as one of our official telephone greetings. Nowadays, we stick to the more traditional “It’s your nickel—start talking” and the ever-popular “Eeeeeeeeyesssssss?”  We never seem to have gotten the hang of simply saying “hello”, somehow.

     For that, I lay the blame squarely at the feet of the publishers of Funsville’s Yellow Pages. This isn’t a directory for businesses, but one which lists every telephone number that someone is likely to answer by saying “y’ello”. People round these parts get unnerved by this particular greeting, believing it to be part of an unfamiliar “knock knock” joke they’ve stumbled upon in progress. Not sure whether they’ve gotten a wrong number or a bad connection, they tend to hang up before saying anything. If you’re listed in the Y’ello Pages, you can be sure to see your social calendar dwindle into non-existence. Not only will your phone conversations cease, but the number of letters, postcards, and e-mails you get will drop off drastically, since your correspondents will be wary of you using “y’ello” to lead off your reply. The mailman may stop coming altogether, on the off chance that you may one day receive a parcel you have to sign for. At least one of Funsville’s postmasters has quit over an unresolved incident involving a letter carrier who was greeted with “y’ello” while attempting to deliver a certified cheque to the winner of a tontine.   

     So, we don’t say “hello” when we answer the phone here, just to be on the safe side. All this preamble was in the interest of preparing you (or softening you up, whichever you like) for the main topic of our virtual 0ne-way chit-chat. Today, February 21st, is the anniversary of the introduction of the world’s first telephone directory, in New Haven, Connecticut. Or so the history books say, anyway…when they have nothing better to talk about. 

     We in Funsville know better…even if what we know, in this case, isn’t even close to true. Still, every civic-minded Funsvillian will attest to the irrefutable belief that the cataloguing of telephone numbers was categorically not the brainchild of some nameless and forgotten New Haven functionary.  Instead, we have it dunned into our heads from an early age that it was the work of the legendary inventor of the phone book, Phonemeous Booker. Ancient lore has it that he chanced upon this momentous discovery while looking for something to prop up a table leg. Our hero was quick to realize that he had something on his hands—now that he no longer had the table on his hands, what with the phone book propping it up and all. It is said that most of the phone book’s current uses were developed during the furious flurry of experimentation that ensued in the makeshift laboratory Phonemeous Booker set up in the room adjoining his in-laws’ spare garage. From this one fabulous weekend’s work sprang such innovations as:

-Standing on it to reach high shelves (or medium-high ones, depending on your height).

-(related) Using it as an improvised booster seat or high chair.

-(sort of related, but not in current use) Giving eligible young ladies a practical way to relieve feelings of inferiority in their gentleman callers, by allowing them to stand on it.

-Using it as a bookend that has the added advantage of also being a book.

-Using it as a functional and informative doorstop.

-Giving circus strong men a new way to demonstrate their physical prowess by tearing it in half.

-Providing something to hang from those little chains in phone booths.

-Furnishing inexpensive goalie pads for young hockey players short on funds.

-Offering a low-cost alternative to a high-priced prosthetic apparatus in a Richard III or Quasimodo costume.

And, last but not least…

-Supplying the general public with a largely reliable way of finding out how many people named “Smith” live in any given town.

     Ironically, “Smith” is one name you will not find in a Funsville phone book. (As far as names go, “Smith” is simply not quite fun enough. “Smitty”, on the other hand, is. Newcomers named “Smith” are required by law to change their name to “Smitty” if they want to take up permanent residency.) To make up for a lack of Smiths in the phone book, Funsville has what must surely be the largest number of different phone books of any municipality worthy of the name. There are listings for every imaginable sub-group of the human race…and for some you couldn’t imagine if you stayed up for a week, chewing raw espresso beans and drinking mezcal laced with mescaline. In addition to the already-mentioned Y’ello Pages are such things as…

-A directory of people who thought about being put on the “do not call” list for telemarketers, but then thought better of it, figuring “what’s the use—they’ll call anyway”.

-A directory of people who got put on the “do not call” list, talked to those other people, and wonder if it’s too late to change their mind.

-A directory of people who only answer the phone on the fourth ring, and only then if they think it’s from someone they know.

-A directory of people who only answer every fourth phone call, whether it’s from someone they know or not.

-A directory of people who believe that the first long-distance rates were set by a man named Alexander Graham Bill.

-A directory of people who think that a candlestick phone is something you use to call the San Francisco 49ers.

 

-A directory of people who think jokes like that belong in Tank McNamara.

-A directory of people who don’t understand why a Google search of Robert the Referee from Tank McNamara yields not one single solitary image of that character.

-A directory of people who wonder whatever happened to the character “Sweatsox” from Tank McNamara, and if the same thing happened to Robert the Referee.

-A directory of people who’ve heard quite enough about Tank McNamara for one day, and think we should move on.

-A directory of people who answer the phone with “Hello—Duffy’s Tavern—sorry—Duffy ain’t here”, even though nobody’s known what that refers to for at least 60 years.

-A directory of people who answer the phone with their best Bob Newhart impersonation, then repeat any lines from their favourite Bob Newhart routines that seem to have anything at all to do with the conversation.

-And, last, but again not least…a directory of people who haven’t got a phone at all. (This one has no names or addresses in it—just pictures. You can ask them who they are and where they live when you see them.)

     Old Phonemeous Booker would be proud. And with that, I’d better go. I hear the Fortress of Funitude hotline ringing. I’ll leave the last word to Sparky and Moose.

Uncle Fun