{"id":6800,"date":"2003-05-07T23:01:00","date_gmt":"2003-05-08T04:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/2003\/05\/07\/6800\/"},"modified":"2017-11-02T14:41:36","modified_gmt":"2017-11-02T19:41:36","slug":"6800","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/2003\/05\/07\/6800\/","title":{"rendered":"Who Needs An Intercom?"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>In my previous days as an experienced Estate Sale Con-E-Sur, I spent a lot of times scavanging the homes of the well-to-do who acquired their, well, to-dos in the 1950s and 1960s.  One thing that struck me besides, and often beside, the ovens built into the walls at an ergonomic height, was the hard-wired intercoms within some of the ranch homes, many of which could have fit the 13 x 65 mobile home in which I spent a couple of years into their basements.  What a remarkable concept, I thought.  But the idea died out in the 1950s, perhaps fifty years before these homes&#8217; owners ended their retirements.  My <a href=\"http:\/\/angelweaving.blogspot.com\" target=\"new\">beautiful wife<\/a> and I bought a home that lacks one, and the house was built when Lyndon Johnson was president.<\/p>\n<p>Never fear, IM is here!  Although my wife&#8217;s office and my office hide on opposite ends of different floors of our split-level home (no coincidence), we can get the benefits of the anachronistic knob-and-speaker assemblies in the Ladue and Town and Country homes.  &#8220;Honey,&#8221; she types, &#8220;I am going to bed,&#8221; and I hear her voice within my imagination more clearly than I would through fifty-year-old vacuum tubes.  &#8220;I&#8217;ll be right down,&#8221; I type carefully, examining each key carefully as I peck out the response to make sure each letter is where I left it.  And I go, to kiss her good night and ensure the bed is adequately feline-occupied for her slumber.<\/p>\n<p>The TCP\/IP packets leave not detritus, though, and somehow it&#8217;s somewhat less satisfying to think our communication leaves no residue, unlike those lines hard-wired and ostentatiously-wrought in 1954.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In my previous days as an experienced Estate Sale Con-E-Sur, I spent a lot of times scavanging the homes of the well-to-do who acquired their, well, to-dos in the 1950s and 1960s. One thing that struck me besides, and often beside, the ovens built into the walls at an ergonomic height, was the hard-wired intercoms [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3334,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6800","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6800","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3334"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6800"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6800\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17201,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6800\/revisions\/17201"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6800"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6800"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6800"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}