Comedians talk about bombing in front of an audience,
comedians possessing such inflated egos that, to them, failing to elicit
laughter from an audience is equivalent to the detonation of an entire
city.
That’s why they’re comedians. They are out of their minds.
Today’s story concerns a recent “bombing” by yours truly,
not before an assembled gathering but in front of a telephonic “Audience of
One.” Which, to me, felt exactly the
same way, proving that I’m out of my
mind. And also too terrified to bomb in
the traditional manner, preferring instead to fail miserably one person at a
time.
Which, by the way, I usually don’t. I have often bantered successfully with sympatico service representatives and
wait-people. And during our recent visit
to Turkey, as I mentioned, I would, on occasion, smiling goofily, position
myself beside a person whose loved one was about to take their picture, my “Mr.
Bean”-inflected gambit meeting with chuckling approval from tourists of all
nations. Make no mistake. My mirth-eliciting batting average is remarkably
impressive. (I am a professional, after
all.) But I am hardly batting a
thousand.
As shall immediately be proven.
I am calling a lawyer to ask him a question. His specialty is “Estate Planning.”
Inheritance laws are confusing in this country. Dead moneymakers – or, more accurately, the
surviving heirs of dead moneymakers –
are required to pay a designated percentage of the estate as an “Inheritance
Tax.” However, an “Estate Planner” can
devise strategies allowing you to legally pay less. In some cases – though
not in mine – nothing.
This strikes me as being simultaneously a schizophrenic Inheritance
Tax policy and a “Make Work” activity
for Estate Planners.
Oh, and by the way, Canada, the most compassionate country
in the Western Hemisphere, does not have
an “Estate Tax.” We have one, but if you pay an attorney, you can get around
it.”
Canadian Taxpayer: “We may be greedy. But at least we’re honest about it.”
Anyway, I have a question for the attorney, so I call the
guy’s office. The woman who answers – I
can instantly sense it in her “no nonsense” intonation –
“Good morning.
Hoffman, somebody and somebody else.”
is all business. An
immediate challenge to comedians.
One I shall ignominiously fail.
I begin.
“Paul Hoffman, please.”
“I’m sorry. He’s in a
meeting.”
“Can I leave a message?”
“I can transfer you to ‘Voice Mail.”
“Will it be his
‘Voice Mail?’”
“Yes.”
she responds, with not a hint of conspiratorial
playfulness. “Beware, Earlo!” But I foolishly forge ahead.
“Could I leave the message with you? I feel happier talking to a person.”
No reaction. (Even
though there is an unmistakable twinkle in my voice.)
“I can take your
message.”
“Great. It’s Earl
Pomerantz – E-A-R-L…and ‘Pomerantz’, spelled the usual way.”
An unforgivable “reach.”
But by now, I am experiencing “flop sweat.”
“Mr. Pomerantz, I will
give him the message that your called.”
“I know you will.”
A decidedly hostile
“No reaction.” In response to my
unnecessarily aggressive “I know you will.”
And that was it. An
abbreviated post for an abbreviated conversation.
And you know what?
The attorney never called me back.
I don’t think she
gave him the message.
2 comments:
You may be interested to know that in the UK "goes down a bomb" means you were a roaring success.
Maybe you'd like to think of it that way. :)
wg
Where there's a will, there's not much else to say.
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