My cell phone is not a pipeline to the White House! The number to call is 1-202-456-1111 I think. However if you are in the 623 area code and you fail to dial the “1” in front of the number, you will get my cell phone.
I have to admit I am not the nicest person if you keep dialing the same number over an over expecting a different result. I am nice the first time, and okay the second time, but the third time you call, I can get down-right cranky.
During the last two or three occupations of the White House I tried to get them to change their number, and you can see my results! During one of the Bush’s terms, I got so many calls that I sent an email to Kent Dana venting. The next thing I knew, I was on TV! I thought it was a joke so I didn’t tell anyone I was going to be interviewed. After the interview, my Dawta called me and said, “Mom, what the heck is going on? My friend called me at 3:00 am telling me my Mother was on TV!” My 15 minutes of fame was short lived and it was back to work making a living.
If anyone is reading my blog from the White House, (LOL) the people calling this week want better representation for the poorer communities for access to vaccinations.
I find it a little amusing that anyone thinks if they call this number, the President will pick up the phone. If Joe is waiting for a call, I know someone that wants to re-home a lively cat.
Y’all have a good day and stay safe.
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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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