When the phone rings at my house, everyone runs… away from it. I’ll hear cries of; “duct cleaning!”, or “charity!”, or “survey!”, or, you get the picture.
Last night, the phone rang, my son and his girlfriend were in the kitchen but wouldn’t answer it. I stopped what I was doing, ran upstairs during the last ring, answered the phone, out of breath and it’s for my son. I pass the phone to him. He’s not happy but takes it, listens for a few minutes, answers a few questions, hangs up and starts ranting and raving about insurance companies. I love it!
Fifteen minutes later, the phone rings again, this time he answers it… a miracle in itself. “Dad, it’s for you.” I stop what I was doing, he passes me the phone. I don’t mind talking on the phone, I do it all day long. The pitch for money starts and I cringe. After listening to how much they appreciated my support in the past and how much they’ll appreciate my support in the future, I finally let them down easy… I prefer to be charitable in person. I hang up and start ranting and raving about charities. He loves it.
I remember being a kid when the ring of a phone was a was like the starting shot at a race, the first one there won the chance to answer, to see who could possibly be calling… it was exciting, a mystery.
Today, there is no mystery, only more duct cleaning, carpet cleaning or someone looking for money. If you’re lucky, really lucky, it might be someone you actually want to talk to.
And that’s why I answer… for that one in a million call.