Not a day goes by that I don’t receive my dreaded phone call from Washington.
No, it’s not the president calling to entice me over Obama Care. Sorry Prez, not the least bit interested.
Nor is it a referendum item on this year’s legislative agenda. Too bad it wasn’t support for an Armenian genocide bill that has eluded recognition for 98 years.
Instead, it’s an agency looking to fill its fat wallet with my money. And they’re absolutely relentless.
Thank God for “Caller ID.” That way, I can simply ignore it when I notice it’s D.C. calling. I do have friends there and maybe one of them is trying to contact me.
And just maybe it was Obama telling me I’m getting an increase in Social Security or an invite to the White House. I’ve had that invitation with other presidents, especially at inauguration time.
A Christmas didn’t go by without me receiving my perennial Christmas card from the Clintons. How I got on their list I still don’t know.
“Aren’t you going to answer the telephone?” comes a voice from the other room.
“It’s Washington calling,” I reply. “Same call as yesterday and the day before. Don’t they ever give up? One negative reply is the same as another, if only they’d get the message. I’m not interested.”
In an age of technology and computers, you’d think the number of crank calls and telemarketing schemes would have diminished. Unless it’s my imagination, they’ve escalated.
Compound this with the number of annoying emails I get daily. The spam which drives my computer whacky. And the amount of junk mail I receive each day that doesn’t amount to a can of beans. I must be living in a rejected world.