Thursday, April 25, 2019

"Better Call Earl"


I don’t know whether to feel flattered or to bitterly complain.  I’m gonna write about it and decide how I feel later.  It’s a close call.  Let’s see where I land.

“Let’s see where we land.”

On the “Care or “Don’t care” continuum?

“The only continuum that counts.”

Point taken.  As I consciously – or it is self-consciously – proceed.

Here’s the thing.  Which I did not notice the first time but when it happened again I did.

It started with Anna, going back for some time.

You probably know this already, but a comprehensive report requires careful attention to superfluous detail. 

When somebody calls me, I can always tell if they are calling from their car, rather than from a place that stands still.  There is this giveaway “whooshing” sound, indicating the caller’s in motion.  “Ambient sound.”  And it isn’t their living room.

Normally, though unnecessarily, I assure you, my suspicions are confirmed after casually inquiring, “Where are you headed, Anna?”

It is invariably someplace.

Enjoying half-day “child-care”, Anna calls during free mornings, while running some errands.  The problem is,

I write in the mornings.

I am polite holding up my end of the conversation, chatting away till, “Dad, I’m there”, wherein the call abruptly comes to an end.  Occasionally, when the call is extended – due to bad traffic or a faraway errand – I say, as congenially as possible, “Anna, I have to get back to work.”

Ending such calls is not easy.  I mean, it’s not like she’s wasting my time.  “Wasting my time” is pretty much my post-career itinerary.  Besides, I am talking to my daughter.

The thing is, her call seriously interrupted my “Flow.”  Trust me.  This is an actual thing.  Bashing ahead, taking a break, then going back to where you left off?
You can’t do it!  

Something essential is not there.

Imagine a frustrated Beethoven composing the opening bar to his iconic Fifth Symphony, interrupted after the first memorable notes to answer the door, returning to the piano, and picking things up.

“Ba-ba-ba…………. what!!!

The measure of “Fatherly Devotion”?  

Choosing my daughter over my “Flow.”

Anyway, that’s what I’ve become – a traveling “Time Killer”, between “Here” and destinational “There.”

Fine.

Then, recently, my brother calls from Toronto.  Tutored in “When not to call”, he helpfully phones during afternoons, when I have finished my work.

Our conversation goes predictably.  We compare ailments, like we are not brothers but Siamese Twins, auguring matching afflictions, the underlying belief – denied by experience but still clung to regardless – being that we are getting exactly the same things.  (Like our mother returning from trips, bringing us identical presents.  It’s like that, but with diseases.)

And then I hear this:

“Okay, (his wife) Nancy’s ready.  I gotta go.”

PALMS UP, UTTERLY SPEECHLESS.  FINALLY…

They did it again!

Bored, waiting or tiresomely en route… they know exactly who to call.

How did I get so lucky?


I don’t get it.

Do they enjoy talking to me?

Or am I fodder on “Speed Dial”?

A simple experiment:

If they called someone else, would I be jealous, or relieved?

To find out, I’d have to adamantly put my foot down, saying,

“I am not “Hold” music.  Call me when you actually want to talk.”

A SIGH.

It is not my nature to do that.

Which may be why they call me in the first place.

I am available,

… and wimpy.


1 comment:

  1. This is not a frivolous complaint. Especially with siblings.
    Mine loves to chat up a storm until she sees a call coming in from one of her ‘kids’ (both over 40) and quickly brushes me off with a promise to call me right back (in case I might have anything to say). This call never comes.
    Not worth pointing this out to her...denial, denial, denial!
    I often get a call when my daughter is on her break at work...as soon as I ask any questions, she’s “gotta go, Mom”...I can feel the eye roll.
    My son only texts. Actual phone conversations stress him out too much, although he’s good in person.

    You can call me anytime, Earl, and I won’t get distracted. Certainly not by my infrequent attempts to write.
    And Alan will even step away from the dinner table to take your call because it will obviously be much more fascinating than anything going on around here :)

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