Sunday, August 14, 2005

Embracing the digits

All it took was a phone call. Follow some instructions, push a few buttons, and as quick-as-ya-please, the last connection to my life in California was severed. I gave up my Southern California cell phone number.

I am no longer reachable through the 760 area code, which has been my area code virtually since it was split off from the 619 area code in 1997, except for that brief period of time when I was in the 559 area code (which split off from the 209 area code while I was living there, so I never got too attached to it.

The 760 area code was my area code for the formative years of my professional career. It was mine for more part of my time in Victorville, and all of my time in Palm Springs. And for the last few months, it has also been the one constant in the way family and friends could reach me. My e-mail address changed, address changed, home phone number changed. But you could always reach me at the 760 number. Until yesterday, when I decided to revert back to the 503 area code of my past, and now for my foreseeable future.

Prior to my most recent move to Oregon, I lived in Oregon for 20 years, and 503 was my area code then, no matter where I lived in the state. I had moved to California before most of the state was split off into the 541 area code, including all of the cities that I previously called home. But now, time and circumstances have brought me back to the 503.

I'm not quite sure why I waited so long to change the number on my cell phone. Check that, I do think I know why. For much of the last few month I told myself that it was so my California friends could still reach me. But in the two and a half months I've been back in Oregon, I haven't received that many phone calls from South of the Border. And then when I decided Saturday to finally make the change, it hit me what the real subconscious reason may have been. It also meant that my ex would no longer know how to reach me.

My cell phone number had been the same since I was with my ex. The last time I heard from her, which was probably 6 months ago or more, was on that cell phone.

Over the last 14 months I've cut most ties to my ex. And I certainly haven't sat here the last few months waiting from a phone call from the other side of the continent. But deep down, I knew, that is she ever decided to call, she could. And maybe that is why I kept the number. I don't know.

But no more. I'm a 503 man now, and happy to be. Of course that may change come winter when the air is chilly and damp and the skies are grey and pregnant with rain. Then I may still crave my 760 and my Coachella Valley sunshine. But I no longer desire to go back in time or to hold onto a past that is unreasonable and impalpable. The future, and 40 and family await here in the 503.



4 comments:

OldHorsetailSnake said...

If I had ever lived in the Coachella Valley I would be missing date palms, a lot.

The G-man said...

I miss those too, or just palm trees in general, although the date palms are very distinctive.

I used to feature a palm tree photo on my blog, which I hated to take down, but it didn't seem to "fit" as a "Salem" blog.

GRT said...

Date Palms, Washington Whatever Palms, they're all messes. Be happy you're away from them. I've chopped down two and have two to go; as soon as I collect enough aluminum cans, they're history!

But who wants grey skies?

grace said...

yikes... i'm attached to my phone #, too. even though it's a different area code from where i live...

that was a big step for you...

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