Michael Reisig's Blog
December 5, 2011
Phone Solicitors and Space People
I write for newspapers and the internet. Some of what I do will appear in my blog. Hope you enjoy!
Phone Solicitors and Space People
By Michael Reisig
Just lately it seems that a whole new gaggle of phone solicitors have found my home phone number. I can think of little that irritates me more than having the few hours of relaxation I get in the evenings interrupted by a phone jackal. Last Sunday night – of all nights, I was ripped from my reverie twice by two idiots, one from a mortgage company and one offering time-share apartments.
At that point I decided to revert my cunning, devious self – it was payback time. The following morning I went out and purchased a few items – an air horn, some blanks for my .22 pistol, and the CD, “War of the Worlds”
The next evening I ran the CD forward to the spot I was looking for, laid my pistol and the air horn by the phone, brought the dogs in from outside and leashed them to the table next to the phone, and finally got a BBQ rib from last night’s dinner and set it on the table. Then I set back and waited.
Fortunately it wasn’t a long wait. The phone rang. I picked it up.
“Hello?”
Hello? Is this Michael Reesiig? (Bad pronunciation of my name – I knew I had one…)
“Yes, This is he,” I replied.
“Well, good evening Michael. My name is Wilbie Landstrom from United Federal Mortgage and Life Insurance. Do you have a life insurance policy Michael?”
I hate it when people I don’t know overuse my first name – but I smiled to myself.
“Well “I have some insurance but I don’t know if I have enough…” I replied.
I could hear the suppressed glee in Wilbie’s voice. “Well you can never have enough life insurance – you have to consider your loved ones… Michael, I can offer you -- ”
“Sorry to interrupt Weenie… but the train is coming. I live near a railroad track.”
“No, my name is Wilbie”
“Wilbie, huh?” I said with an edge of distain. “That’s not much better than Weenie. Hold just a moment – here comes the train.”
At that point I put the air horn to the phone and let off a 10-second burst. I’m pretty sure I heard Weenie scream.
I quickly put the phone to my ear again: “Hello Willie, are you still there?”
“It’s Wilbie,” said the shaken voice at the other end.
“Okay, Okay, so how much is this insurance gonna cost me and what does it cover?
Weenie gathered himself together and tried again. “We can offer several policies to fit your needs and if you buy a policy tonight we will offer you two free days at our timeshare in…”
“Hold on Willie that damn train is backing up again.”
Another blast of the air horn. That time I’m certain I heard him scream.
“Look, Willie, I’m really sorry – the train’s gone now – won’t be another for a half-hour.
“Wilbie…”
“Okay, So, tell me, how is my age going to affect my policy price?
“Not really very much, we can put you into a graduating scale of --”
At that point I picked up the BBQ rib and held it above the dogs – who immediately started barking. “Sorry Willie, but there’s something going on outside – I live way out in the country – gotta check…”
I put the phone on the table backed away and picked up the bone again. The dogs responded with another chorus of yelping and barking, and in the background I shouted “My Lord! I don’t believe it. It’s a freaking spaceship hovering over the top of the house! Heaven help us all! My God! Look at them creatures! Get the gun, Ma! It’s aliens! We’re being abducted!”
At that point I hit the button on the War Of The Worlds CD and the scene where the alien ships are humming and shooting up the city. I picked up the pistol moved to the door and fired a few rounds into the air (Bang! Bang! Bang!) (pause) “Oh sweet Jesus!” (Bang! Bang! Bang!)
“I moved over closer to the phone and screamed, “They got Ma! ... Shoot Ma! Shoot! Don’t let ‘em take you! (Bang! Bang!). I quickly moved back and grabbed the phone. “Willie! Willie! For God’s sake call the government. Good Lord! They’re eaten’ the dogs (bone held high – more whining and barking…) “Run for your life Willie!” I screamed into the phone. “They gonna kill us aaaalllll!” Then I hit the disconnect on the phone cradle.
I waited for a couple minutes, got Wilbie’s number from the caller ID and dialed it. Sure enough, a fairly shaken familiar voice answered meekly, “Yeess…”
In a deep, menacingly rasping tone I growled, “WHHOOO ARREE YOOUUU?? WHEEREE ARREE YOOUUU?? WHOO ARREE YOOUUUU….” I could hear Wilbe in the background making little yippy sounds from the back of his throat, like a Chihuahua strangling on a chewstick, then he just burbled up into a full-fledged shriek and the phone went dead...
Now, every once in a while in the evenings when I’m a little bored, I’ll pick up the phone, block out my number and dial Weenie’s number. When he picks up, I growl, “WHHOOO ARREE YOOUUUU? WHEEREE ARREE YOOUUU?” Then I hang up.
Michael Reisig is a best-selling novelist and an award-winning newspaper columnist. All of his novels (including his latest "The Road To Key West" and his apocalyptic thriller, "The New Madrid Run" ), are found in bookstores everywhere and are available in hardcopy and ebook format with Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble.com, and online Apple bookstores.
Phone Solicitors and Space People
By Michael Reisig
Just lately it seems that a whole new gaggle of phone solicitors have found my home phone number. I can think of little that irritates me more than having the few hours of relaxation I get in the evenings interrupted by a phone jackal. Last Sunday night – of all nights, I was ripped from my reverie twice by two idiots, one from a mortgage company and one offering time-share apartments.
At that point I decided to revert my cunning, devious self – it was payback time. The following morning I went out and purchased a few items – an air horn, some blanks for my .22 pistol, and the CD, “War of the Worlds”
The next evening I ran the CD forward to the spot I was looking for, laid my pistol and the air horn by the phone, brought the dogs in from outside and leashed them to the table next to the phone, and finally got a BBQ rib from last night’s dinner and set it on the table. Then I set back and waited.
Fortunately it wasn’t a long wait. The phone rang. I picked it up.
“Hello?”
Hello? Is this Michael Reesiig? (Bad pronunciation of my name – I knew I had one…)
“Yes, This is he,” I replied.
“Well, good evening Michael. My name is Wilbie Landstrom from United Federal Mortgage and Life Insurance. Do you have a life insurance policy Michael?”
I hate it when people I don’t know overuse my first name – but I smiled to myself.
“Well “I have some insurance but I don’t know if I have enough…” I replied.
I could hear the suppressed glee in Wilbie’s voice. “Well you can never have enough life insurance – you have to consider your loved ones… Michael, I can offer you -- ”
“Sorry to interrupt Weenie… but the train is coming. I live near a railroad track.”
“No, my name is Wilbie”
“Wilbie, huh?” I said with an edge of distain. “That’s not much better than Weenie. Hold just a moment – here comes the train.”
At that point I put the air horn to the phone and let off a 10-second burst. I’m pretty sure I heard Weenie scream.
I quickly put the phone to my ear again: “Hello Willie, are you still there?”
“It’s Wilbie,” said the shaken voice at the other end.
“Okay, Okay, so how much is this insurance gonna cost me and what does it cover?
Weenie gathered himself together and tried again. “We can offer several policies to fit your needs and if you buy a policy tonight we will offer you two free days at our timeshare in…”
“Hold on Willie that damn train is backing up again.”
Another blast of the air horn. That time I’m certain I heard him scream.
“Look, Willie, I’m really sorry – the train’s gone now – won’t be another for a half-hour.
“Wilbie…”
“Okay, So, tell me, how is my age going to affect my policy price?
“Not really very much, we can put you into a graduating scale of --”
At that point I picked up the BBQ rib and held it above the dogs – who immediately started barking. “Sorry Willie, but there’s something going on outside – I live way out in the country – gotta check…”
I put the phone on the table backed away and picked up the bone again. The dogs responded with another chorus of yelping and barking, and in the background I shouted “My Lord! I don’t believe it. It’s a freaking spaceship hovering over the top of the house! Heaven help us all! My God! Look at them creatures! Get the gun, Ma! It’s aliens! We’re being abducted!”
At that point I hit the button on the War Of The Worlds CD and the scene where the alien ships are humming and shooting up the city. I picked up the pistol moved to the door and fired a few rounds into the air (Bang! Bang! Bang!) (pause) “Oh sweet Jesus!” (Bang! Bang! Bang!)
“I moved over closer to the phone and screamed, “They got Ma! ... Shoot Ma! Shoot! Don’t let ‘em take you! (Bang! Bang!). I quickly moved back and grabbed the phone. “Willie! Willie! For God’s sake call the government. Good Lord! They’re eaten’ the dogs (bone held high – more whining and barking…) “Run for your life Willie!” I screamed into the phone. “They gonna kill us aaaalllll!” Then I hit the disconnect on the phone cradle.
I waited for a couple minutes, got Wilbie’s number from the caller ID and dialed it. Sure enough, a fairly shaken familiar voice answered meekly, “Yeess…”
In a deep, menacingly rasping tone I growled, “WHHOOO ARREE YOOUUU?? WHEEREE ARREE YOOUUU?? WHOO ARREE YOOUUUU….” I could hear Wilbe in the background making little yippy sounds from the back of his throat, like a Chihuahua strangling on a chewstick, then he just burbled up into a full-fledged shriek and the phone went dead...
Now, every once in a while in the evenings when I’m a little bored, I’ll pick up the phone, block out my number and dial Weenie’s number. When he picks up, I growl, “WHHOOO ARREE YOOUUUU? WHEEREE ARREE YOOUUU?” Then I hang up.
Michael Reisig is a best-selling novelist and an award-winning newspaper columnist. All of his novels (including his latest "The Road To Key West" and his apocalyptic thriller, "The New Madrid Run" ), are found in bookstores everywhere and are available in hardcopy and ebook format with Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble.com, and online Apple bookstores.
Passion
Passion
By Michael Reisig
Intelligence is a powerful asset, will is a motivator, love is a carnival of delightful emotions, but passion is the cornerstone of our lives. It defines who we are and what we will become. It’s the centerpiece in all our accomplishments, the rod that stokes the fire in all our endeavors. It drives love to its highest peaks, it’s the essence of great art, intellectual advancement, and extraordinary athletes. When we are fortunate enough to find commitment, exuberance, and pleasure in one place, then we have fallen victim to passion.
But passion can be a two-edged sword. It can be as tragic as any Shakespearean play or perhaps more aptly put, it is the tragedy in the Shakespeare play – the lover gone mad with grief, the myopic mate, the gambler’s obsession. As with all things, we must hold tightly the reins of our passions and temper them with reason, lest they run away with us.
There are those who drink from the goblet of passion continuously and there are those who have never tasted it, and neither understands the other. I’m reminded of the quote by Angela Monet; “Those who danced were thought to be quite mad by those who could not hear the music.” To carry passion in your breast is to never cease to grow, because you are always finding something new with which to be enthralled.
To me, passion is the seasoning of life – most of us are given a plate at birth with much the same entrees as others – the endless possibilities for success, love, learning, compassion, etc. It’s whether you flavor those entrees with passion and give them as much tang as you can that makes the difference. You can only hope to be one of the dancers who hear the music…
How often, when reading about the great accomplishers of our times, have you learned about their extraordinary commitment? From George Washington and Martin Luther King, to Bill Gates and Vince Lombardi, passion is the father of ambition, desire, and energy. Never underestimate it, in yourself or others. One of the greatest gifts parents can give their children is passion – the enthusiasm for honesty, love, kindness, and commitment. Your passion not only changes you, it changes the world around you. Every great dream begins with a spark. It’s the passion within us that turns it to flame – or the lack of passion that allows it to die.
Ask yourself today; what are my passions? Am I exercising my passions – living them, allowing them to make my life and the lives of those around me better? Can I hear the music, or am I just watching others dance…
Ask yourself today; what are my passions? Am I exercising my passions – living them, allowing them to make my life and the lives of those around me better? Can I hear the music, or am I just watching others dance…
By Michael Reisig
Intelligence is a powerful asset, will is a motivator, love is a carnival of delightful emotions, but passion is the cornerstone of our lives. It defines who we are and what we will become. It’s the centerpiece in all our accomplishments, the rod that stokes the fire in all our endeavors. It drives love to its highest peaks, it’s the essence of great art, intellectual advancement, and extraordinary athletes. When we are fortunate enough to find commitment, exuberance, and pleasure in one place, then we have fallen victim to passion.
But passion can be a two-edged sword. It can be as tragic as any Shakespearean play or perhaps more aptly put, it is the tragedy in the Shakespeare play – the lover gone mad with grief, the myopic mate, the gambler’s obsession. As with all things, we must hold tightly the reins of our passions and temper them with reason, lest they run away with us.
There are those who drink from the goblet of passion continuously and there are those who have never tasted it, and neither understands the other. I’m reminded of the quote by Angela Monet; “Those who danced were thought to be quite mad by those who could not hear the music.” To carry passion in your breast is to never cease to grow, because you are always finding something new with which to be enthralled.
To me, passion is the seasoning of life – most of us are given a plate at birth with much the same entrees as others – the endless possibilities for success, love, learning, compassion, etc. It’s whether you flavor those entrees with passion and give them as much tang as you can that makes the difference. You can only hope to be one of the dancers who hear the music…
How often, when reading about the great accomplishers of our times, have you learned about their extraordinary commitment? From George Washington and Martin Luther King, to Bill Gates and Vince Lombardi, passion is the father of ambition, desire, and energy. Never underestimate it, in yourself or others. One of the greatest gifts parents can give their children is passion – the enthusiasm for honesty, love, kindness, and commitment. Your passion not only changes you, it changes the world around you. Every great dream begins with a spark. It’s the passion within us that turns it to flame – or the lack of passion that allows it to die.
Ask yourself today; what are my passions? Am I exercising my passions – living them, allowing them to make my life and the lives of those around me better? Can I hear the music, or am I just watching others dance…
Ask yourself today; what are my passions? Am I exercising my passions – living them, allowing them to make my life and the lives of those around me better? Can I hear the music, or am I just watching others dance…
Cell Phones
I write weekly columns for newspapers and the internet. Some of these will appear in my blog each week. Hope you enjoy!
Michael Reisig
Cell Phones...
By Michael Reisig
For the life of me, I don’t quite understand this addiction to cell phones that has manifested itself in our society. I understand their utilitarian value – being able to contact authorities in an emergency or get in touch with the wife to let her know you’ll be late getting home, but lately, everywhere I look, someone’s got a cell phone umbilically attached to their ear, oblivious to the rest of the world. This seems exceptionally prevalent while driving, and this makes life more challenging for all of us.
Let’s face it, doing things other than driving while driving is almost a national pastime – smoking, drinking, eating, repremanding children, playing with pets, putting on makeup, and now we have talking on the phone (while still continuously doing all the afore-mentioned things as well). I’ve seen Chinese circus acts that couldn’t hold a candle to the everyday drivers on our local highway, but it’s not just on the road. How many times have you been waiting at the doctor’s office, or an airport concourse, or having lunch at a nice restaurant, when someone sits down close to you, drags out their cell phone and begins a conversation that is just loud enough to be really annoying. I don’t want to know a whole bunch of intimate things about you, your boyfriend or your family. I don’t want to know how important you are.
I had to go to Little Rock the other day. In the process, I had to make a pit stop at a rest area. I walked into the less than stellar bathroom, a little cautious to begin with. The first stall was taken so I tried the second. It opened -- seat still attached to the commode, water in the toilet not terribly brown, toilet paper available – all good signs. I had just sat down when I heard a voice from the next stall...
"Hi there, how is it going?"
All right, I’m not generally inclined to strike up conversations with strangers in washrooms on the side of the road, but the voice continues.
“Can you hear me okay?”
I didn't know exactly what to do, so finally I said, "Yeah, I hear you. I’m okay..."
Then the voice says, "So, what are you doing?"
Now, I find that a bit disconcerting, and just a little put out, I say, "Well, I'm headed to Little Rock, and right now I’m taking a ^%#@.
Then I hear the person say, all flustered, "Look, I'll call you back. Every time I ask you a question some idiot in the stall next to me keeps answering."
If you’re not sure whether you’re addicted to your cell phone, here’s a short battery of questions I found on the web to help you out.
1. Do parts of your body tingle when you get free cell phone minutes?
2. Does raising your children interfere with programming your speed dial?
3. Do you have long-distance conversations while sitting on the toilet in public restrooms?
4. Does the term fashion statement mean matching your outfit with your cell phone carrying case?
5. Do you use the menu light as your nightlight?
I hate to sound chauvinistic, but I think young girls and cell phones are absolutely the worst combination. I was driving to work this morning, and as I looked over to my left, there was a young woman in a Honda doing 50 miles an hour in a 35 mph zone, with her face tilted up to her rear view mirror, putting on her eyeliner while ardently talking on a cell phone. The next thing I knew, she was halfway into my lane.
It scared me so bad I dropped my electric shaver into my coffee.
Michael Reisig
Cell Phones...
By Michael Reisig
For the life of me, I don’t quite understand this addiction to cell phones that has manifested itself in our society. I understand their utilitarian value – being able to contact authorities in an emergency or get in touch with the wife to let her know you’ll be late getting home, but lately, everywhere I look, someone’s got a cell phone umbilically attached to their ear, oblivious to the rest of the world. This seems exceptionally prevalent while driving, and this makes life more challenging for all of us.
Let’s face it, doing things other than driving while driving is almost a national pastime – smoking, drinking, eating, repremanding children, playing with pets, putting on makeup, and now we have talking on the phone (while still continuously doing all the afore-mentioned things as well). I’ve seen Chinese circus acts that couldn’t hold a candle to the everyday drivers on our local highway, but it’s not just on the road. How many times have you been waiting at the doctor’s office, or an airport concourse, or having lunch at a nice restaurant, when someone sits down close to you, drags out their cell phone and begins a conversation that is just loud enough to be really annoying. I don’t want to know a whole bunch of intimate things about you, your boyfriend or your family. I don’t want to know how important you are.
I had to go to Little Rock the other day. In the process, I had to make a pit stop at a rest area. I walked into the less than stellar bathroom, a little cautious to begin with. The first stall was taken so I tried the second. It opened -- seat still attached to the commode, water in the toilet not terribly brown, toilet paper available – all good signs. I had just sat down when I heard a voice from the next stall...
"Hi there, how is it going?"
All right, I’m not generally inclined to strike up conversations with strangers in washrooms on the side of the road, but the voice continues.
“Can you hear me okay?”
I didn't know exactly what to do, so finally I said, "Yeah, I hear you. I’m okay..."
Then the voice says, "So, what are you doing?"
Now, I find that a bit disconcerting, and just a little put out, I say, "Well, I'm headed to Little Rock, and right now I’m taking a ^%#@.
Then I hear the person say, all flustered, "Look, I'll call you back. Every time I ask you a question some idiot in the stall next to me keeps answering."
If you’re not sure whether you’re addicted to your cell phone, here’s a short battery of questions I found on the web to help you out.
1. Do parts of your body tingle when you get free cell phone minutes?
2. Does raising your children interfere with programming your speed dial?
3. Do you have long-distance conversations while sitting on the toilet in public restrooms?
4. Does the term fashion statement mean matching your outfit with your cell phone carrying case?
5. Do you use the menu light as your nightlight?
I hate to sound chauvinistic, but I think young girls and cell phones are absolutely the worst combination. I was driving to work this morning, and as I looked over to my left, there was a young woman in a Honda doing 50 miles an hour in a 35 mph zone, with her face tilted up to her rear view mirror, putting on her eyeliner while ardently talking on a cell phone. The next thing I knew, she was halfway into my lane.
It scared me so bad I dropped my electric shaver into my coffee.
