Recently, I received a rather strange inquiry via social media. A displaced Mainer currently residing in one of those square, flat-as-a-pancake states on the far side of Vermont wanted to know whether my “Tim Sample Answers Your Answering Machine” tapes might still available for purchase.

I’m not sure which was weirder: the fact that he’d expended that much effort tracking down a gag gift that’s been out of production for a quarter century, or the fact that it took me 15 minutes to figure out whether or not I could fill the order!

As you’ve no doubt deduced by now, I’ve managed to keep my publishing business humming along for several decades, partly by scrupulously maintaining a safe distance from the hazardous environment one inevitably encounters when venturing out onto the “cutting edge” of technology.

Alas, a search of the inventory on hand in my “warehouse” (portions of my basement and garage) revealed that the last known example of the item in question appears to have been handed to a (no doubt long since retired) UPS driver at some point, approximately halfway into the second Reagan administration.

My email response to that effect concluded with a suggestion that my cyber-correspondent expand his search parameters to include the vast digital yard sale of past-their-prime consumer goods: eBay.

Perhaps it was the fact that the whole non-transaction unfolded within the realm of cyberspace, or that it didn’t involve a single telephone conversation.

But, somehow, the experience convinced me that the time had come for me to deal with an issue I’ve been procrastinating over for far too long. 

I finally realized that I’m ready to bite the bullet, throw in the towel, hang up my gloves, walk off the field — or at the very least quit mixing these danged metaphors long enough to call my service provider and (gasp!) cancel my 1-800 number.

I know, I know, you had no idea I even had a “1-800” number, right? Well don’t feel too bad about it, chummy. Apparently, you’re not alone. That’s pretty much the whole point. I get it. I’m just not all that thrilled about it.

Remember when “Toll-free from anywhere in the continental U.S.!” seemed like such an unbelievable bargain? You don’t? No, of course not. What was I thinking? Why would you?

But, believe me, there was a time and it wasn’t all that long ago either, when most folks had to pony up a hefty additional “toll” charge simply for the privilege of chatting with someone outside the “local calling area.”

Back then “local” usually meant your hometown and maybe one or two contiguous hamlets. So, the idea of calling anybody you want, anywhere in the country, any time of day or night for free, no less, seemed like a pretty luxurious proposition.

To be fair, though, the level of “luxury” one experienced varied wildly depending on whom you were talking to. Kibitzing with a personal shopper at Tiffany’s or lambasting your legislator for his latest bone-headed vote was one thing. Hanging on for an entire 15-minute pre-recorded sales pitch describing the joys of the “FREE!” Five Day Luxury Florida Getaway (and high-pressure condo tour)” you just “WON!” was quite another.

Still, in those pre-Internet, pre-cell phone days, the idea that millions of potential customers from Eastport, Maine, to East Los Angeles, Calif., were just a free phone call away was pretty heady stuff, significantly “leveling” the 48-state playing field for Maine-based entrepreneurs like me.

And even if you factored in all the crank calls, misdials and hang ups, income generated by that toll free number far exceeded any modest service fees. Not that there weren’t a few teething problems, you understand.

The number I chose for my toll free order line, 1-800-448-4669, contained the alpha numeric version of my name: 1-800-HI-TIMMY. Get it? Well, it seemed catchy at the time. Catchy or not, I soon discovered that my number was just one digit off the number for Time Life Audio.

Although I never bothered to change it, I did spend nearly three decades explaining to hundreds of well meaning folks across America that they’d reached a small publishing company in Maine and sorry, we don’t carry the Glen Campbell “Greatest Hits Collection.”

So, I’ll cancel the line tomorrow. After all, near universal free nationwide cell service makes my “toll-free” line about as convenient as a pay phone.

Still, I like to think that someday soon, a Time Life operator will answer a “misdial” from a customer in East Dorsett, Vt., looking for a “Tim Sample Answers Your Answering Machine” tape. I’d sure love to listen in on that conversation.