As Travel No Teardrop Nauseous

Bought two cards at the Brush gallery on my way under the buildings in Lowell- nice photos by Leslie MacPhail who took them, I am sure, as manhole covers- guess I never noticed my vocation is a 'non-union sewer worker'. Oh well.

I just called my dad for the FIFTH time since I got home last night. Couldn't reach him on either of yesterday's calls, so started today again- mind you, he INSISTED that I call him as soon as I got home.

So here's the drill- I call, he picks up the phone and says 'hello', I respond. he says 'HELL-oo' and I respond again. He screams 'I can't hear you!' and then I start screaming, 'It's ME, it's Sandy!', and he hangs up.

So here's the problem- he has one of those old Trimline phones which replaces the stand-up model he kept knocking off the table. It sits at his left elbow, and he answers it with his right hand, reaching across his body. he picks it up and puts it to his ear UPSIDE DOWN.

When I was there I showed him the problem and turned the phone around to the unnatural position that would automatically be right side up if he answered it this way. I also told him to only talk if the cord was coming out the bottom.

So today I call: guess what- he picks up the phone and says 'hello', I respond. he says 'HELL-oo' and I respond again. He screams 'I can't hear you!' and then I start screaming, 'It's ME, it's Sandy!', and he hangs up.

So tonight I call and ...(see above)... (second verse, same as the first!)

This is the man who wants to move so he can get a computer and a car again.