What took you so long?

Wow!  It has been more than 24 hours and only one person from the 623 area code (that’s  in Arizona) has called to bend my ears on what they think about the “Sit In” in the House of Representatives to try to get a vote on gun safety.

You perhaps wondering why anyone would call me and not the White House?  Well almost 20 years ago I got a cell phone for my Real Estate business and was given my nice new telephone number, unfortunately I share the number with the White House.

If you call the White House message line from the 623 area code, and you fail to dial a “1” you will get my cell phone, at all hours of the day and the night!   Thank you so much!

BTW I am not very nice at 3:00 AM!  If you get me out of bed more than two or three times, I am downright nasty!

Most of you just start rattling off your views of the state of the world and what you know should be done to fix it, without taking a breath  so I can interrupt.

Some of you ask to speak to President Obama!  Right! He is sitting right next to his RED phone with baited breath waiting for you to call.

In the past I have thought of many cute things to say, but sanity prevailed and I just informed you that you need to dial a 1.

I loved the people that call back several times as they just don’t believe me.

The only good thing about this is I always know that some crap has hit the fan in politics!  Some years it is smellier that others.

I figured that at sometime I would have talked to everyone in that area code, but, alas today I got another call.  Hence this epistle.

 

 

Published by Time Traveler of Life

Biography Creating worlds, characters, and wielding power like a madwoman, making my characters happy, sad, angry, and some of them with no redeeming qualities. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I sometimes laugh out loud when I am writing a scene, and I have been known to cry when one of my favorites has to die. I am a left-handed Gemini, what do you expect? Reading bedtime stories to my two children until they fell asleep or until they just told me to go away, was fun. Making up wild stories for my grandchild, and creating Halloween costumes from Cowboys to a Dragon, was another favorite thing to do. I missed that so much when they were grown, that I started writing. My yearly newsletters frequently were drafted third-person by my Love Birds, Miranda our motorhome, and by Sir Fit the White Knight, our faithful Honda. Throughout the years, some of my creative talents centered around writing letters of complaint expressing my displeasure with services or products. One crucial, at least to my Son, was a note to our local school bus driver petitioning her to allow him back on the bus. He was kicked off for making an obscene gesture at his buddy. I reminded her that it was not directed at her, and that “obscenity can be in the eye of the beholder,” kids use that gesture as a greeting. He rode the bus until he graduated. I loved driving my English teacher crazy. Leaving a “continued next week” at the end of my five handwritten pages required each week. He was one of many people that suggested I “do something about my writing.” I graduated from the School of Hard Knocks at the top of my class. After 30 years, in the trenches as a Real Estate Professional, I have found that truth is stranger than fiction. My books are filled with characters I met in that profession. Their names were changed to protect the guilty. Others were from people we met traveling around the country in Miranda, our Motorhome. I am married nearly 60 years to the love of my life, Shirl, and partner-produced two exceptionally talented children, and one grandchild who is our pride and joy.

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