A Brief Longing For The Busy Signal

Nope. Nope. Nope.

The other day, I heard one of my favorite rock songs by the British recording artist Richard Thompson. It's "Tear Stained Letter" ( here's the link to the live version), which dates back to 1983. It contains the following lyric:

I went for the phone, but the line was busy

Which got me to thinking about busy signals. They were a constant, universal and dreaded factor in everyday life that has more or less just gone away due to technology.

Busy signals used to be a very big deal. You'd dread getting them, worry about being on the phone too long and giving one to someone else, get very frustrated with whatever entity was causing it, and so on. As phone tech improved, we moved on to call waiting, and getting straight to voicemail, and at this point, voicemail is pretty much a lost art as well. If you want to reach anyone under the age of 25, text or their preferred social network is pretty much becoming your only channel, especially with the scourge of robo-calling.

But I want to get back to what the busy signal represented. There was a democracy to them. Rich and poor, urgent and trivial, the busy signal was a simple and complete hard stop to whatever the caller thought was important and had to happen right now now now. If you couldn't figure out some other way to solve your problem, your only option was to redial or wait.

Maybe really wealthy people had other options - private lines and such - but for the most part, it was a shared and universal inconvenience. At any point in the day, you had the means to immediately communicate with the person you wanted to talk to, but there was a really good chance it wasn't going to work. The busy signal encouraged back up plans, alternatives. Creativity.

Now, of course, the call goes through, but with less of a chance of success. Maybe it goes straight to voicemail. Or blocked. You can send email, but there's no guarantee it won't trigger a spam filter or get buried under other messages. What used to be an absolute and mechanical disconnect is now set to the preference of the recipient, who holds all of the power. They decide whether to answer the call or not from the information they receive on their screen.

I think this means that we talk to each other less than we used to, but there's really no way to know for certain. Perhaps we are all just busier now, less apt to do the small reach of making the first call, more prone to cultivating our feeds and inboxes and to do lists.

No one wants the busy signal back, of course, and it's never coming back. Good tech always displaces bad.

But that doesn't mean that when it went away, we didn't lose something as well.