"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.