Don't push my buttons

For Christmas one year, I bought my husband a clock radio/phone. It was a sacrifice, but I have never been sorry. I have privately congratulated myself many times for a good consumer decision.

The clock radio has two alarms, so that, if say on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, you have to get up at 6:30 and on Tuesday and Thursday you have to get up at 7:00, the clock doesn't have to be reset. How clever!

The phone also has a few fantastic features. Back in the day, it was pretty high-tech. The best feature is that it is an 'old fashioned' phone - one that plugs into the jack. You can't move around the house with it. This means you will never have to search for it under your son's bed, where he put it just before he went to sleep - four days ago. It means, that if the power goes out, the phone stays connected and you can call Hydro to let them know you're in the dark. It means that the phone will not die on you mid-way through your conversation with your sister about the latest news. And it has a fairly long cord, so in a pinch, you can heat up your curling iron and finish your hairdo while you chat with your long-lost cousin.

Another feature this phone has is speed dial. Not only does it have 10 optons for speed-dial, but it has three ultra-speed-dial buttons, which allow you to program three different numbers in and you won't have to go through the arduous process of pressing "Speed Dial" before you press the #1 button,or the #2 button, or the #3 button...you get the idea..... `You press "A" ,"B", or "C" and you are instantly connected. It's the little things that make the difference. .

The phone has travelled with us through 6 moves. It has always been at our bedside. When we moved to the farm, we found out that in the configuration of our furniture, the phone would not reach the jack. Sadly, we could only use the clock radio. However, now that we have moved yet again , we have the happy privilege of using the phone.

The problem is that, with five years of disuse, I couldn't remember which speed dial is which. I tackled that tonight. Since I had some spare time, I decided to press the buttons and see where it led me.

Speed dial #1 rang for many times, and then a message machine for "Hello, this is Sue..." came on. Since I didn't know Sue, I figured that perhaps it was an old number for someone which now was owned by Sue. I re-programmed Sue, (at least I thought I might have re-programmed it), and then I pressed the "A" button to see who would answer. My husband's cell phone rang in the living room. He came into the bedroom to see why I was calling him.

Then I bypassed ultra-speed-dial "B" and pressed "C".

The "C" button dialed three numbers before it rang. Too late, I remembered that I had programmed 911 into it. I hung up as quick as I could. And then I waited for the phone call. My heart was racing.

You see, all those years ago, when I found out how to program the speed dial, I thought I'd put 911 into "C". Then I tried it out, to see if it would ring. I hung up when I heard the operator. A minute later, I got a call back from the 911 people to see if everything was o.k. at our house. Apparently they take these calls very seriously. I sheepishly admitted to programming it into my 'ultra speed dial' and she kindly, but firmly told me I shouldn't have done that. "That's why we made the number short, so that you can dial it quickly." I knew I had done a dumb thing. Especially when she told me that she would have to cancel the police car coming to our house, but if they arrived, I would be charged for their time. That was the last time I pressed "C" until tonight.

Sure enough a few minutes after I dialed that 3-digit number with the ultra -speed -dial button this evening, the local Police Department called our house. "We received a call from the 911 operator about a hang-up call from this number. Is everything all right there?"

Again, I had to explain why I had called them. It was because (and I know how stupid this sounded) "Heh heh, I couldn't remember the speed dial number would dial, and just went ahead and pressed it." "Are you sure everything is o.k?" she said? I reassured her that all was well. Then she asked for my name and my birthdate "for the file".

By now, my face was completely red. I gave her my name and birthdate, wondering how a grown woman could do something so daft...twice in a lifetime.

After that, I gave up reacquainting myself with the speed dial and ultra-speed-dial buttons. I'm going to look through my files for the manual of how to program it instead.