Friday, July 22, 2011


I'm hanging up now. Hanging up on the home phone. After making a long overdue switch from Qwest to Cox at the office, I did a little home review. When's the last time I even used my home phone? Does anybody important ever call it that doesn't usually just dial one of the many of our other numbers right away anyway? Plus, I'm sick of the thing ringing. Sick of searching for one of two long lost in the couch probably dead-batteried phones. Sick of playing Russian roulette when I answer and cringing when I get the Hello, Mrs. Soooolavahn, this is a robot from India, or a solar panel salesman, or a politician just calling to waste your time, to beg for money, to interrupt your dinner. I used to feel bad for hanging up on the people, then after a twenty minute conversation with the solar panel guy, who had Google Earthed my house, I started to get scared. These people know my address. They know where I work. What kind of car I drive. I had better be nice. Last week a nice guy from ASU called and told me he knew I had seen Billy Elliott recently, knew what shows I went to last year, too, and then all about the needy children at ASU that can't afford to see plays, somehow resulting in fewer dollars in my bank account before we hung up. Those poor kids. But now, all because of me, even though there are much more worthy causes out there, a few more teenagers will be able to see Rent. I guess I feel better about that, but starting tomorrow, I won't be the one having to listen to the disconnected signal. You can reach me on my cell phone. Or at the office. Or on email, regular mail, Facebook or just drive over to my place and we can talk face to face. 

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