CATHARSIS

 

Catharsis?  Well -- something is prompting me to write about my most embarrassing moments.  Maybe I just need to talk about it. So here are a couple:

Don’t Judge a Book By It’s Cover

I don’t fly a lot.  But I did fly several times while I was in the Air Force Band.  We usually flew from base to base in those old “Goony Birds.”  The Air Force called them C 47’s.  They were drafty and tinny and maybe that educated me on the physics of an object in flight.  I knew that when some rough weather came our way, those old planes would toss and turn like a cork in the ocean – but  we never fell out of the sky or even were in jeopardy.  That is just how they bounced around.  One just got used to it.

Which leads me to my first most embarrassing moment.

I was flying to Florida.  I had the window seat.  Belted down in the center seat was a short little man, who seemed to be alarmed at the rough weather we were encountering over the Florida coast.  Now, I don’t often converse with fellow passengers  –  it is just not my nature.  But this guy, as he crouched down into his seat, trying to read his book,  seemed to be concerned with the bouncing around we were experiencing.  So, I drew upon my great expertise – having flown years  ago on those old Air Force airplanes – and proceeded to calm down his apparent fears of flying in rough weather.  I carefully explained  that airplanes are much like boats.  “They bounce around when the water has some rough waves.  This aircraft is hitting some rough waves of air.  But it will be just fine.  It is made to bounce around like this,  just like the boat,” I explained in great detail to this obviously nervous traveler.

 

The air eventually smoothed out and I thought I needed to continue with our new found friendship and make dure he survived.  So, I turned to him and, after going through the preliminaries of names etc.  I said, “Where are you from?”

“Miami,” he answered.

“What do you do?”

“I am a meteorologist.”

“Oh my God,” I said, “I feel really stupid giving you all that stuff about why airplanes bounce around.  Wy didn’t’ you tell me?”

“You were doing such a good job,” He chuckled.

As though my foot wasn’t already completely into my mouth, I just had to continue.  “I feel pretty stupid right now.  But what do you do?  Are you a weatherman on TV?” 

“No,” He said as he laid his book on his lap, “I fly into hurricanes.”

Never judge a book by it’s cover….

 

One to Nothing – Indians

I have lived a great deal of my life in the Southwest.  I pride myself on having great knowledge of the Indian culture.  At least that is how I felt.  This was, of course, an exaggeration.  But, when my daughters came visiting, I wanted to show off a bit. We made a trip into the Arizona mountains and stopped by a tent beside the road where Indian jewelry was being sold.  As we perused the various pieces, I decided to check on a pair of earrings for my wife, who was not with us.  It was to be a surprise.  I decided on a pair of Kokopelli earrings.  “This old symbol  represents  reproduction,”  I pedantically explained to my daughters  --  showing them my great knowledge of these Native American things.

 It is typical for customers of these roadside venues to try and barter for a better price.  Since I was such an authority on the Indian culture, I smugly slipped this valuable information to my daughters, and proceeded to show them by example.  I picked over the Kokopelli’s and finally selected a nice pair. 

Since I was so sure of myself and my knowledge of the various tribes in the area, I was anxious to show off this vast knowledge.  I, therefore, stepped up and was about to show my knowledge of Indian lore and my great bargaining abilities. 

Behind the table were three Indian women.  One of the three was quite cute, rather young and had on jeans,  a designer jeans jacket  and a concho belt.  She wore small rimless glasses.  Her black hair was neatly, professionally done.   Before I began my bargaining spiel, I asked, with great authority and stupidity, “Which tribe are you?”

“Navaho,”  She answered, rather curtly as though it was a dumb tourist question.  Which it was.

Then came my most embarrassing moment.   I should have quit while I was ahead.  I didn’t. “You don’t look like a Navaho,” I spoke before I got my mouth coordinated with my brain

Without missing a heartbeat this gorgeous Indian girl instantly retorted back to me, peering over her rimless glasses and in perfect American English,  “And just what does a Navaho look like?”   She paused, as though waiting for an answer that would not come.  It didn’t.

I suddently needed to look at my feet .  I asked the price of the Kokopelli earrings, she said “Twenty dollars.” Without allowing any more time to pass than necessary, I gave her a twenty dollar bill.  I would have paid whatever she said.  I grabbed my Kokopelli’s and slinked away from  the tent as fast as I could.  My daughters were giggling in the background.

Indian girl wins -- one to zero…..

What hath Alexander Graham Bell wrought?

I remember so  well  -- about 80 years ago, sitting in a room in a house in Darlington, Indiana visiting with my grandmother, Nellie Weliever.  She was "Central" --  the telephone operator.  The little switchboard was in someone’s house.  There was a bathroom and bed there so the operator could rest at night – she was often on call all night – but things closed down after 10 or so unless there was an emergency.  My Grandmother could talk to me, sitting beside her,  with interrupted sentences as she answered the incoming calls and pulled cords and plugged them into holes and routed them -- usually by name instead of number. It went something like this --  “Tomorrow is Sunday and --   “Yes Mary.  Here’s the drugstore,”  and we are having fried chicken” – “ Charley, that line is busy.  Try again later.  – How does that sound to you?” She could talk to two people at once and never miss a beat with either of us.

Those old crank phones were the first general popular use of the new telephone.  Then, in larger towns, we had the operator system with a girl – no guys back then – sitting with a row of other girls in a big room.  They were much less personal as they efficiently routed calls around towns all over the country.  One would lift the receiver and wait for the word “operator”.  You gave the number and your call was quickly sent to the proper place.  This gave rise to the “party line”, with W’s and J’s to delineate the difference.  The limited number of  private lines were reserved for special folks – like policemen and firemen and politicians.

Next were the “dial” phones, which was a miraculous achievement.  Now one could do one’s own connecting to whomever they choose to call.  No operator needed.  That is, all except long distance.  That required an operator. And that required an extra charge – sometimes a fairly large amount.  The charge was usually per minute after the first three minutes.

I distinctly recall the first “direct dial” call I made in the early 60's.  I could not believe I could pick up my phone in south Texas and call folks in Indiana by just dialing an “area code.” No operator.  Automatic charge. What  progress!  It still works, today!

Yes,  I have seen the survival of the fittest in the evolution from those crank phones all the way to the cell phones of today.  So what? So, what has it come to today?  Robo Calls – that’s what.  It’s Those pesky calls we all get several times every day – at all hours and from who knows from where. And the number duly recorded on our phone screen is from where?  Maybe next door?  -- certainly in our local area – right?  Wrong.  It is called "spoofing". I have had a call from my own phone number.  Now how does that work?  Sometimes I call back the number to see where it came from.  It is either a non working number or someone who did not call me and thinks I am stupid for asking if they did.  And sometimes I miss or hang up on a legitimate or important call, thinking it is a robo call.  That is not good.

In the unlikely event that I do press 1 as directed to get a zero rate on my credit card – or a swinging deal on health insurance – I get “This is John Smith”, which comes out like “Yon Smeet” in an East Indian or Hispanic  dialect.  And if I question his motives or ask silly questions, sometimes  I get a “F*** you”, over and over until he gets it out of his system and hangs up on me. In the past, I loved to play with these folks, but I am tired of playing with them and I no longer play their game.  It is no longer fun and is getting serious now.

So why am I concerned about these calls?  First of all,  they are a scam. They are from a foreign country. And, they take up my time and use up my phone minutes and usually come at a bad time and try to sell me something I do not want or need.  But more important, they seem to have the computer program to grab anyone’s phone number at random with no consequences.  If they can do that, maybe they get to our private information or bank accounts?  The “do not call” list is useless and does no good at all.  They sometimes admonish us to press 2 and they will not call again – That is BS! They are making us all grouchy when the phone rings.  I find myself barking at everyone who calls – even friends or the drug store or the Doctor’s office and having to apologize.  I have become unfriendly on the phone.  It really has gotten to a ridiculous level and needs to be addressed.

The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) is in charge of phone companies and radio/TV station licenses.  In the years I was a broadcaster, the FCC was GOD!  They would ride herd on us like an old mother hen.  We all had to study, take a test and get an FCC license.  We must never fail to read our transmitters every half hour, or give our station call letters and location on the hour.  Our broadcast logs were kept in perfect order.  Why?  Because the FCC folks might come to town and rent a motel and listen to the radio station for a day or two, then come to the station unannounced and look over your shoulder and check on all these entries – and they better be up-to-date and your logs match up with what they heard or there was hell to pay and one might lose one’s job pretty quickly. A serious infraction could lose the station's license.

So that begs the question – why does this fussy, demanding FCC not crack down on these robo calls that use telephones illegally?  I actually wrote to the FCC and asked that question.  I have received no response.  I cannot believe that there is no way to stop these calls.  I have heard they are "working on it". As we are wont to say “If we can fly to the moon, why can’t we stop robo calls?

From the heart of Olaf Hart