“Mr. Watson, Come Here!”

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Two days ago, something in my life seemed amiss; i.e., how tranquil sheltering at home had become. It hadn’t taken long for me to pinpoint what was afoot, here, namely, the absence of daily, insufferable, nuisance calls; i.e. the robo deadpanned and live emoted telemarketing spiels, scams and threats.

I knew fully well that such callers hadn’t had some sorta overnight epiphany; i.e., come to the sudden realization that career-wise, the honorable high road doth beckon. Ergo, upon picking up my phone’s handset, I wasn’t shocked to discover the absence of dial tone. And, outage-wise, I’d been down that road countless times before.

A bit of background 411: My small corner of America can be best described as a tech dead zone, where phone lines and equipment are so archaic; have become so (literally) tumbledown, that both Alexander Ghaham Bell (b. March 3, 1847 / d. August 2, 1922) and his assistant, Mr. Watson may’ve been moonlighting as linemen during its original installation within my community (hence my headlined quotation).

Worse. yet, the telecommunications behemoth that I’m dealing with, hath a CEO / small “g” god, who obviously believes the word “upgrade” only applies to his personal paygrade, NOT to the actual infrastructure.

Consequently, his lackadaisical, tech refurbishment plan gets implemented one disconnected, disgruntled customer at a time.

More to the point: My combined land line / Internet service has been… well, let’s just say that service THIS IS NOT!

Anyway, within five minutes of powering up my cell, I found myself talking to a repair department god, a fellow named Jesus, no less (the son of god / CEO?). Upon his ascertaining my complaint legit, he issued a repair ticket and scheduled a lineperson for the very next day.

The only good thing about this entire mess was how remote troubleshooting capabilies had clearly established my outage to be the handiwork of an outdoor gremlin; ergo, it’d not be necessary for me to hang out at home (even tho I did).

Matt, the repair guy, showed up around half past ten, yesterday. Obviously, neither of us were taking any chances (Covid-19-wise). We were both masked up and, whenever we needed to discuss matters, my closed, virtually airtight, windowpaned outer door further isolated us at all times.

Long story ALMOST OVER, within the hour, he had successfully restored my service.

And I do say ALMOST OVER because the very first nuisance call I received, in the early p.m.… cue the drum roll / rimshot please… was on behalf of the Republican Party. The caller asked for me by name and after the perfunctory “pleasantries”, things took a decided swerve to the far, Far, FAR HARDCORE RIGHT. Yep, that sycophantic propagandist / history revisionist began effusively rehashing Donald J. Trump’s tenure as prez and then asked if I concurred?

Agreed to what? Her psychotic fantasies? Her delusions?

Not about to ever mince my words. I spot-on called out Donny using terminology such as insurrectionist and un-American. Now here are the real kickers.

Even after fully acknowledging both of my duly derogatory characterizations; her actually saying, “I understand”, she still had the gall to hit me up for a substantial financial contribution to the Republican Party; mind you, to the Republican Party absolutely owned and operated by fascistic Trump!

All of which begs the following questions:

In her book, is being an insurrectionist and un-American an asset? Something to be proud about? Had she misconstrued my words as being complimentary?

BTW, quite emphatically and repetitively, I had talked over her pre-programmed begging routine to inform her that I’d not be donating even one penny.

My gawd, these Republican freaks are billionaires, who could amply fund their party, by easily extracting the oodles of “lost” loot from between their collective sofa’s cushions. Yet, they’ve got the audacity to hold out their tin cup to this barely existing on a fixed income man?

Have they no shame?

It was while demanding that she add my phone number to the GOP’s Do Not Call List, that she hung up on me. So, it’s tough to say whether or not there’ll be any more nuisance calls from these insurrectionists and un-Americans at some point down the road.

Methinks I’d have been far better off, yesterday, had lineman Matt been a no-show.

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

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Dissing Discombobulation

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Let’s disclose and discuss; each discouraging day
Our sense of disquiet, disgust, dispirit, dismay

We witness disaster, disease, discontent, disarray
Let’s disassemble, below, ills to dis; blow away

Spot the discordant despots; subjects can’t disobey
The fade from view, disenfranchised; who still have no say

Discrimination, discovered; that distasteful display
Disinformation, unchecked, exacts high price to pay

Dishonesty taints; stains souls in hues; dismal gray
Infrastructure’s disheveled; discolored environs’ ashtray

We must disallow, disavow, now; disown tyrants who bray
Discredit their social ills; discard ‘em; keep ‘em at bay

Both disbelievers / disciples, can dispatch life; forward sway
The former will earnestly hope; the latter will solemnly pray

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Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!

-30-

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