"Can I use your phone?"

I was just short of my eighth birthday when we moved to the big house on Commonwealth in summer of 1971. Okay, I know...I'm aging myself here. For those of you trying to do math in your heads, that makes me 29.

We didn't have a phone when we moved in, and I know my kids would be scandalized hearing that (OMG! You didn't have a phone? How did you live?). Yep, things were a lot different back in the olden days, girls.

Anyway, we didn't particularly miss having a phone as kids, since we had never had one in the old place we lived either. But one day after school I decided that I really, really needed to use a phone. I'm not sure if I had ever even dialed a phone before.

Maybe I had gotten a hold of a phone book somewhere. Maybe we had learned about Alexander Graham Bell in school that day. The reason escapes me now, but no matter. All I know is that as soon as I got home from school, I walked down the block a piece, crossed the street, and knocked on the door.

"Can I use your phone?" I asked the bemused woman who answered.

She peered over my shoulder, obviously curious as to what extreme emergency would drive a scrawny eight-year-old to her home begging to use her phone. Maybe she recognized me as a member of the family that had just moved in down the street that had about a dozen or so little kids running around. I suppose I didn't appear threatening, so she let me in and showed me where her phone was.

I could tell she was hovering nearby, but I didn't mind. I was just so darned excited that I had access to this magic communication device, the whole world could have listened in for all I cared.

I plucked up the receiver and casually dialed the number as nonchalantly as if I had been doing it my whole life, impressing myself with my poise. Whom did I call? Why, the only person in the entire world that I knew had a phone - my Aunt Jean. I don't even remember now how I got her number.

I don't recall the conversation, but I'm sure my aunt must have been a little bewildered by the call, as she was probably aware that we didn't have a phone at the time. The conversation was short and polite; I filled her in on school and family goings-on and asked how my little cousin Paul was, and then I hung up after promising to call her again soon. I wonder what the neighbor lady thought of that particular statement.

I thanked the woman, and took my leave. To her credit, she didn't berate me or remind me that it was rude to use a complete stranger's phone unless it was for an important reason.

Luckily, we got our own phone a few months later, so I never had to use another stranger's phone after that. Other neighbors might not have been so patient.

Someday I'll have to ask my aunt if she remembers that call.