Somewhere, deep in a box in a closet, I’m pretty sure I have an old answering machine. If you were to see it I would tell you it’s just a backup. I’m a guy who likes to make sure that I have a second line of defense in case things go bad on me. That’s what I’d tell you. At the end of this commentary, I’m going to share the real reason it’s still with me.
It appears that I’m becoming the last of a dying breed. I still have and use voicemail, in one form or another. There’s an answering machine connected to my house phone. (Yes, I still have a landline. If you keep interrupting I’ll run out of time to tell you the story at the end. Just deal with the fact that in this area, I’m still very old school). Answering machines are just the earliest form of voicemail. The reality is that this technology in all forms is rapidly going the way of the dinosaur, the Dodo bird, and middle of the road politicians. In 2014, Coca-Cola gave its employees the option to drop their voicemail. Ninety-four percent walked away from it.
I know why I find this concept rather strange. What has been my primary form of communication for most of my life? Even more than the average person, I communicate by talking. Heck, I’ve managed to make a pretty career out of talking. That results in me feeling a little let down by the predominantly text-oriented communications in fashion today. One hundred forty characters feel like a stranglehold to me. The Millennial generation, like my daughter, is leading the charge towards the demise of voicemail. Truth be told, that generation doesn’t use their phone as a phone primarily. Their preference is for text messages. The closest we come as a family to using voicemail these days is with a walkie-talkie style app called “Voxxer”. Basically, it’s like sending voice texts. Honestly, I think I like it more than she does.
All of this is leading to the probable death of voicemail in the foreseeable future. People think it’s a waste of time, and the younger generation believes that if it’s important you’ll text them.
I think it’s a mistake. The reason why is that answering machine in my closet somewhere. You see it’s not mine. It belonged to my mom, who passed away six years ago or so. On that machine is the last recording I have of her voice. It’s just the standard message, but it’s her.
Maybe voicemail really is a waste of productive time and maybe it is inevitable that it’s going away. But tell me how you will linger over a text from a loved one years after they’ve gone. Tell me you wouldn’t rather hear their voice, one more time.
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