My Grandfather was immensly proud of his son (deservedly so) and, without fail, when we showed up in Maine, he would disappear into the kitchen, make some call, and hand the phone to my father using that very line.
My Dad would sort of go white, not knowing who was on the other end of the phone, but it all seemed to work out. After all, we were related to pretty much everybody in town.
With some great pleasure, I pulled this on my wife today. If it wasn't a $700 iPhone, I think she would have thrown it at me.
Turns out, it was someone she really wanted to talk with.
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