Most years in the second half of March my family makes the two and a half hour drive to the southern edge of the lake country in Minnesota for my brother and sister-in-law's annual fish fry. In the garage of their farm about five miles outside of Raymond on Saturday night, we consumed our fair share of breaded and deep fat fried fish, french fries, cheesy hash browns, salads low in healthiness but high in flavor, several types of hot dishes, and a few too many servings of desserts.

Once my wife and I were sufficiently full and tired we changed the kids into their pajamas for the ten mile drive back to Grandma and Grandpa's house. Of course we are hoping that they will all fall asleep on the way so we took the scenic route back (at least as scenic as flat farmland can be in the dark).

We detoured southwest to Clara City, population 1,323. The town is a relative metropolis when compared to the other nearby towns that number 700 or less. We drove around seeing the sights like the nighttime hotspot Keggers, the big construction project happening at Bethany Reformed Church, and the consolidated MACCRAY High School where teenagers from Mayard, Raymond, and Clara City all receive their secondary education.

With the tour completed and two of our three kids asleep, we turned onto 1st Avenue (also known as Highway 23) to head back to Crystal's parent's farm. A few blocks down I looked left and saw something I had not seen in more than a decade or two: a full length phone booth, complete with the two panel accordian-style door.

Crystal asked if I wanted to stop for a picture. I did because it is not everyday you see the communications equivalent of a unicorn.

I got out of the car and walked inside the booth. I expected it to smell like a stale, smoked in relic of the corded phone era. However it was relatively clean inside, save the two adult beverage bottles on the corner shelf which was probably the base for several thousands of quick notes to be written over the last 30 or 40 years.

I picked up the not clean but not sticky handset. It didn't have a dial tone, but I could hear myself when I talked into it so I think it was working. If I had a roll of quarters with me I would have tried to call my cell phone long distance to confirm that. Had either of us had one quarter I would have tried calling Carrot Top by calling 1-800-CALL-ATT.

There was also one of those stainless metal phonebook protectors, capable of sheltering massive white or yellow pages in Minneapolis. I opened it expecting to find it empty or the phonebook badly damaged. This one contained a six inch by eight inch copy of the Clara City Phone Book that appeared to have all of its pages. Public property respected by the Minnesota nice.

If you are on your way up State Highway 23 to one of the 10,000 Minnesota lakes, or have time for a scenic route to the Twin Cities, visit the intersection of 1st Avenue and Main Steet in Clara City and do what none or your friends have done, take a selfie in a phone booth.

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