I am becoming my father. While I love him dearly, I'm fairly certain there is no son that feels comforted by the notion that he is now mimicking what he had once teasingly mimicked (mimicked x 2 = double word score).
My dad leaves unbelievably long messages on my voice-mail. Though, previous to voice-mail, he would wear the tape out of my answering machines. One time while I was living in Japan, he called, left what was at LEAST a 2 min. message, got cut off by the machine, called back, seamlessly started in on how he got cut off, hehehe, and then right back into talking . . . UNTIL HE GOT CUT OFF AGAIN. SO HE CALLED BACK AGAIN! and left most of the third tape. "Nothing pressing . . . just checking in . . .thinking about you . . ." and then he just tangents out on friggin anything: baseball, my brother, snorkeling. It doesn't matter. What matters is the ability to flow from one topic to the next seamlessly without needing prompting from another person (sound like any blogs you know?)
I am becoming my father.
I love the potential of a message about to be recorded. And don't get me wrong, I don't leave a ton of messages. I have a firm "if the message is to call me back, my missed call should be enough" policy. But when I do leave them--i feel it's like getting handed a live microphone and a karaoke machine which plays my thoughts.
Recently one of my good friend's mothers decided that, in order to celebrate her son getting his PhD (like that's hard or something), she should get all of his friends to call into this message recording and leave a nice message to congratulate him. So, I call in, and their is a prerecorded message my my friend's mom saying, "You have 30 min. so don't worry about having enough time." Worry?!? I took that as a challenge.
My first* message to my friend was 22 min. long. I checked of course. To be honest, it wasn't even that hard. I just start talking about things that I think we would mutually be interested in, and then I just insert him responding, "uh huh" about 120 times. Easy peezy. (*I later called back and sang him his "power song.")
For whatever strange reason though, I don't often leave my dad long messages. Hmmm.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Honestly. While I hate to admit this, it is my first time reading your blog. Not because I don't like you.... Mearly because I just don't read things in general. .... This is a bad habit, I understand.
ReplyDeleteHowever. I'm hooked. I guess even tho it's almost exactly the same as having a conversation with you ( in which I do not respond) it's actually entertaining to hear you rant, knowing that at least someONE is listening, but not needing the immeadiat gratifacation of a response. Or nod. Or any facial indicator of any kind.
From now on I'm in. And a follower.
You should've told your friend that you decided to plan a reception in his honor at your house that very evening and he better show up. What, no takers with half a day's notice? What if said house was on a lake? Ok, fine, tell him to raise his hand if he'll at least join you for dinner. ...still no? That's awkward.
ReplyDeleteGlad I've never experienced anything like that before.
Anon: This has made me very happy, though I must admit that considering the anon title, i'm not totally sure who this is. I have guesses mind you, but I am far from sure. Do i get a guess even?
ReplyDeleteAri: most awkward ever. so awkward in fact that I have been debating whether or not to blog about it. But i probably will . . . since its obvious comedy gold. and cause it happened. thankfully i don't have any time at the moment, so it's a non-issue.