Where's Alexander Graham Bell When I Need Him?

One Christmas -- at least (mumble, mumble) years ago, my brother (the one who always buys me small kitchen appliances) bought me a wall phone.  It's a great phone ... but it's fallen off the wall a few times, and there's a big chunk of plastic missing from the receiver, and the 47th replacement cord has a short in it.  (It's long.  I like to walk around the kitchen when I talk.)  It's time for a replacement.

I will probably be the last woman on the planet with a landline.  Why?  Because I loath cell phones and handheld wireless phones.  You can't rest them on your shoulder when you're in for a marathon call.  Your arm gets tired after a while and all the blood drains from your fingers.

I like that when the power goes off, the landline is still there.  I have a cell phone and it takes about five minutes from the time I turn it on until it finds a signal.  In an emergency, it's the pits.

The problem now is finding a phone that I can put on my shoulder.  Ain't no such animal.  Wireless only.  Sure they're great if you want to walk around the house, but not much else.  (The shelf life for those phones seems to be about three years.  We keep having to replace them because the batteries go dead and it's more expensive to replace them than buy a new phone.)

In the Booktown Mystery series, Tricia has an old black Art Deco phone on her cash desk.  We had one of those when I was a kid.  It was an "illegal" extension phone.  The bell was disconnected so the phone company wouldn't know.  Now -- who cares how many phones are scattered around the house.  (We have five.)

I want that old fashioned phone.  (I've seen a few at "antique" stores, but they want too much.)  And I want one I can rest on my shoulder like the one pictured above.
I've searched the internet to no avail.

Am I the only one left who wants a REAL phone?
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