Abbey's Road: An overdue 'adieu' to the phone book

I, Abbey Roy, as a journalist and documentarian of events for posterity, feel it is my responsibility to record the closing of an era.

Calm down, guys, I’m not quitting — but I did opt out of receiving a phone book ever again, and I’m maybe a little sad about it.

Context: For anyone under the age of Saved by the Bell and compact discs, a phone book (n; archaic) used to be an encyclopedia dictionary textbook gigantic-sized anthology of phone numbers which one could use as a resource to get in touch with a friend or business.

Because back in the day — some time between smoke signals and TikTok — families had their phones mounted on walls or sitting on their kitchen countertop, and if you wanted to get ahold of someone, you had to pick up the phone attached to your wall by a twirly cord and dial their seven-digit number. And if you didn’t know that number, you had to check the phone book.

So every so often, an updated “Yellow Pages” (registered trademark) would arrive with a “ka-thunk” on the doorstep, and occasionally we would use it to order a pizza or find a plumber or weigh down a corner of the rug that persistently curled up.

But somewhere along the line, folks started carrying their phones in their pockets, and the more that happened, the smaller the phone book became.

…And yet it still came. And came. And came.

This isn’t the first time I’ve written about the phone book — all 7.5 ounces of it — but it probably will be the last.

When it arrived on the doorstep last week with the sound I imagine a butterfly makes when it lands on a flower, I gently lifted it and flipped through the pages, pondering what to do. After all, a few twigs were sacrificed to make these pages, and it didn’t feel right to just pitch them.

So instead, I perused.

My final observations, to be noted for future generations, are as follows:

-It’s cute that “The Real Yellow Pages” (registered trademark) bills itself as “The Original Search Engine” (registered trademark). This must be how those film reels felt about “Avatar” or how cowboys feel when they ride off into the sunset.

-Say what you will about the supply chain, it clearly hasn’t affected our local termite population, which might explain why the exterminating folks are so well-represented in this edition. Keep fighting the good fight, Banishers of Pests. The world needs you.

-I found a business that exclusively deals in protective table pads “Just like Grandma’s.” This is information I clearly would not have obtained via any other avenue, and for that I am grateful.

-If you need to open a phone book in order to find someone to repair your computer, they’ve got you right where they want you. Please consult with your grandchildren before sending money, and I sincerely hope your computer problem was not caused by the money order you sent to the prince of Nigeria.

-Turns out there are still private investigators in the world, which introduced me to a whole new rabbit hole. I’ve now ruined my phone’s targeted advertising algorithm for a week.

-If you are devoting a page of your publication to hacks for cutting foot odor and removing toilet bowl stains, it’s time to rethink the long-term sustainability of your business model. Or maybe you already have.

-Last but not least, to the Cheryls, Davids, Michaels, Pats, Judys and Garys who make up the residential portion of my final phone book and who are probably reading this column in print: I am proud of you for holding out. You remind me of a simpler time, when a person was only accessible from within his or her four walls. I look back fondly on those days and will remember my childhood home phone number, along with that of my best friend, for the rest of my life. You are rockstars and I think you’re great.

Now I’m going to drive this little guy to the recycling center and maybe bring a tissue in my pocket.

Carry on.

Abbey Roy is a mom of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to maintain her sanity. You can probably reach her at amroy@nncogannett.com, but responses are structured around bedtimes and weekends.

This article originally appeared on Newark Advocate: Abbey peruses the Yellow Pages a final time before opting out forever