Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Funny Thing About Me ...

I hate talking on the phone. Even though I am like most Americans with the ubiquitous cell phone near me at all times, mine is mainly for text communication rather than phone to phone vocal calls.

Recently my grandmother has become a little ill, which has promoted my grandfather to be on the horn trying to reach me what seems like every five minutes (more like every half hour, in reality). I hate to say this, but sometimes I just don't pick up. There's no point, often, as he just wishes to revisit something we've already discussed. I've learned, however, that this is not a good strategy.

You see, Pops doesn't realize that every time he calls my phone makes a note of it, telling me that I've missed a call. So what happens is that I get a message that says I've missed 7 calls in the last hour and when I finally get back to him it's for something like "Hey Wes, I just wanted to see if you'd had lunch yet. You like to eat." God bless his soul, but that's not something I need to be called over. I hate talking on the phone.

I mentioned to him that I use text messaging (I described it as "little letters") and this tickled him pink. He was quite the corresponder in the past, though he does not write at all any more due to age. I doubt thaty he'll send me a text any time soon, but wouldn't that be neat?