10-31-06, 9:48 a.m.
With the mid-term elections one week away, it has become a regular occurrance in my home to receive pre-recorded messages from the candidates urging us to cast our ballots in their favor. Perhaps many readers have had similar experiences.
I am sure these pre-recorded messages have a place and are important for those people who haven't decided yet how they'll vote, although I must say I've never met someone who has indicated that their vote is based on the best pre-recorded phone message from the candidate. This isn't the case in my household. We know how our ballots will be cast; we just hope they'll be counted properly. Thank goodness penmanship isn't a factor, since that would clearly give elections officials a way to throw out my vote in a manner that would garner a degree of sympathy from everyone who has tried to decipher my handwriting.
Still, all things being equal, there are some telephone calls I never expect to receive. And darn it, I feel I have a right not to expect these calls since I seldom call anyone at home in the morning. I am not completely awake yet, and empathy causes me to believe that everyone else in my time zone is more or less in the same shape.
My expectations were solidly supported by the facts. Until this morning, when I received a telephone call from someone apparently representing the Republican National Committee.
Boy, did they call the wrong number!
'Good morning, Mr. Albright, my name is ___________ from the Republican National Committee. As you know, the mid-term elections are one week from today and we are calling because your support on November 7 will be crucial......'
At this point, there are several things going through my mind:
1. I need to check my coffee in an effort to determine if something was in the cup before I poured the java. Like, say, a massive dose of Irish whiskey. Nope, it was regular, unadulterated, unspiked coffee.
2. I tune out the GOP telemarketer and listen attentively to determine whether I hear the disembodied voice of the long-dead Rod Serling announcing that I've entered the Twilight Zone. Nope, I didn't hear that...which was fine because if I had, it would have sent me back to checking the coffee again.
And to be honest, the person on the other end of the line was telling the truth. My support November 7 will be crucial, but I am not supporting the GOP.
'...and we're counting on you to stand with President Bush and the Republican party......'
Subtext: We're so totally desperate that we're calling everyone to try to get their vote....
My inner monologue: The Republicans are counting on my support? It was this kind of 'counting' that got them elected in 2000.
'....would you be willing to pledge $100 or more to the Republican Party......?
My inner monologue: Yes, sure. When I learn how to write fluently in any language other than English, using a pen that doesn't work or a word processor in an office with no electrical power and missing batteries.
What I actually said was: 'No, I have obligated myself to things other than the Republican Party.'
The person on the other end of the line was not deterred. It was like trying to drop membership in a health club...or an online service.
'Well, I am sure other organizations are worthy of your support...'
My inner monlogue: Darn, I should have specifically mentioned the CPUSA, Political Affairs, the People's Weekly World. That would be a news flash: Republicans deem CPUSA, PA, PWW worthy of support!
'....but we could really use it, too....'
Somehow, I doubt that. But I resisted the temptation to give the person on the other end of the line a piece of my mind. At this hour of the morning I need every piece I've got. Come to think of it, I need every piece I've got most of the day. So, I simply said:
'Sorry, wrong number.'
