Can I Call You Back?
As a child as a young girl I spent many (many) hours on the telephone. I had a babysitter named Eva Balco, an older Irish woman with no children and a husband named Jake. She could really talk, and I would call her just to listen. Sometimes though I'd talk myself. I love the telephone even now, although I know that telephone calls have gone the way of Sesame Street. Life is lived in short bites. Messages. Cut to the next moment of words. Bruce is one of the few people I know who will still talk on the phone. He is Phone Excellent.
Last night as always I called Bruce although he is the best telephone person I know he nearly always says Can I Call You Back because he is Doing Something. Last night he was cutting up zucchini and I asked him, I always ask him why he can't talk to me at the same time as he cuts up his zucchini but he can't. He just can't. Later, he calls back to explain What Happened the Last Few Days (nothing and everything) Mike the painter has landlord problems red flying squirrel still eating Bruce's grapes and I listen, thinking how words are the musical notes I love.