Andy Young

Some years ago I was enjoying some quality family time with my children when the telephone began ringing. The response that followed confused me, mostly because there wasn’t one. Not one of my trio of offspring made even the slightest attempt to answer it.

I briefly considered several possibilities. Perhaps they were all hard of hearing, and I hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe I was hearing things, as a result of all the undiagnosed concussions I suffered in those backyard football games many decades before. Or it could have been that while lying next to my wife Cleopatra I had been bitten by an asp, which brought about a strange dream that was taking place two millennia in the future.

But two of those three scenarios were entirely implausible, and the Egyptian one was pretty unlikely, too, so I said, not unreasonably, “Will one of you answer that?”

Their reactions ranged from puzzlement (from the 7-year-old), to minor irritation (from the ten-year-old), to incredulousness (from the twelve-year-old, whose facial expression suggested that I had just asked him to throw himself onto a live grenade).

I didn’t understand their reticence then. But I do now.

According to data from several call protection companies, nearly half of all phone calls in the United States today are made by telemarketers, robots, scammers, or some diabolical combination of the three. Now I get why today’s kids think cell phones are for taking photos, texting, playing video games, creating needless drama via social media, or any number of other activities not involving actual conversations with other human beings.

So what can one do about all this electronic spam? Exercising restraint and kindness is a good start. Cursing out the person on the other end of the line is pointless; to borrow the name of a 2014 movie no I one I know watched, Why Kill the Messenger? Besides, there’s an excellent chance the person making the call isn’t enjoying his or her current job to begin with. How many human beings grow up aspiring to make a career of phone solicitation? The thought of spending even a small portion of one’s adult life making cold calls from inside a windowless building, chained to a desk inside a cubicle surrounded by hundreds of other similarly desperate drones doesn’t sound like an existence that’s fraught with romance, glamor, intrigue, or significant financial reward.

Maybe my kids were onto something back when they were feigning deafness.

Fortunately, thanks to caller ID there’s no reason to let a daily onslaught of junk calls upset one’s customary routine. Every incoming call I get is duly noted on my cell phone’s call log, and once in a great while someone actually leaves a message on my answering machine, often ending it with, “Have a nice day.” When that happens I dutifully listen to and evaluate the information that’s been communicated, then thoughtfully and without prejudice decide whether or not to contact the party who left it.

On the off-chance this essay is being read by an entity who’s been trying without success to get me to return his, her, or its calls, here’s a helpful list of “Dos and Don’ts” for those wishing to reach me by phone. Just because I like to be different, I’ll start with the “Don’ts.”

1)     Don’t call and then not leave a message. The chance of my returning a message-less, unsolicited call is ZERO.

2)     Don’t tell me you’ve got the life insurance quotes I’ve asked for, since I didn’t request any.

3)     Don’t tell me you want to offer me home improvements, particularly if caller ID indicates you’re located in Phoenix, Arizona; Tulare, California; Paris, Kentucky, or, for that matter, anywhere that’s more than 20 miles from where I reside.

4)     Don’t read off a script. Sounding like a robot is a real turn-off, even if you’re not a robot.

5)     Don’t tell me you want to relieve my tax burden; I don’t have one.

6)     Don’t tell me this is my last chance to remedy my crushing credit card debt; I don’t have that, either.

7)     Don’t call me if you’re from North Dakota, Hawaii, Mississippi, Wisconsin, Saskatchewan, or West Virginia. I don’t know anyone who lives in those places.

8)     Don’t tell me my niece has been abducted while traveling overseas, and you need my credit card information and bank account numbers to rescue her. My niece always tells me when she’s going abroad, and she’s always careful to avoid kidnappers.

9)     Don’t call me before 8 AM, or after 8 PM.

10)  Don’t forget to consult the list of “Dos,” which I’ve helpfully provided below.

Oops. Sorry. There are no “Dos.”

But have a nice day.