I'm referring here to ole Alex Bell.
Ole Alex Graham Bell.
A lot has gone down since he said "Mr. Watson, come here! I need you!"
And most of it is negative.
We've come a long way from Jan Clayton ringing Jenny three times to reach the sheriff when Jeff or Lassie were missing.
When I am in a good mood, embracing life, and my mind turns to the subject of death, I usually think that tomorrow is one less day that I have, to get up.
When I am depressed, and occasionally embracing death, which is unfortunately too much of the time, I think that tomorrow is one less day, that I HAVE to get up.
Just a moved comma, and four capital letters, and it changes everything.
One of the ways that my mind shifts to the latter is the prospect of someone calling me between 8:30am and 9am.
This could only be a stranger.
A stranger that I don't want to talk to.
Why should 8:30 to 9am be considered the half Witching-Hour?
Because anyone who calls then is either interrupting someone on their way to work, or more likely, in my case, rousting someone who isn't on their way to work out of a deep sleep.
It would have to be a dire emergency call from someone I know to justify it.
Usually it's just a Telemarketer.
Or worse yet, a RoboCall.
With a RoboCall, it's pointless to yell back.
Ya think Ole Alex had this in mind when he beckoned Mr. Watson?
I have been on Senator Al Franken's e-mailing list for quite a while.
He's always been asking me for money.
I like Al Franken.
I've always liked his politics.
But he lives and represents Minnesota.
I live in Michigan.
So I've never been moved to send him money.
Then I received a RoboCall from his campaign.
At 8:45am.
If I voted in Minnesota, that's when he would have lost my vote.
Later on, I received a live Telemarketing call soliciting funds for Al Franken.
I explained to the fellow on the other end of the phone how Al had lost whatever support I had for him.
I've got a lot more to bellyache about this, but my belly is really starting to ache.
So I'll pick up where I left off next time.
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My books ,"Show Runner" and it's sequel, "Show Runner Two", can be found at the Amazon Kindle Store.
Along with the newer ones, "The Man Is Dead", and "Report Cards".
You can search by typing in my name, Cindy Williams, Laverne & Shirley, The Odd Couple, or Happy Days.
Check them out.
You don't need a Kindle machine to download them.
Just get the free app from Kindle, and they can be downloaded to an IPhone, IPad, or Blackberry.
The paperbacks, "Mark Rothman's Essays", and my new novel, "I'm Not Garbo" are available for people without Kindle.
I have many readings and signings remaining, and the thing about Kindle is you can't sign one.
If you'd like one, contact me at macchus999@aol.com.
And now, we've got my reading of my "Laverne & Shirley Movie" screenplay on YouTube.
******
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
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About Me
- mark rothman
- Hi. I am, according to my Wikipedia entry,(which I did not create) a noted television writer, playwright, screenwriter, and occasional actor. You can Google me or go to the IMDB to get my credits, and you can come here to get my opinions on things, which I'll try to express eloquently. Hopefully I'll succeed. You can also e-mail me at macchus999@aol.com. Perhaps my biggest claim to fame is being responsible, for about six months in 1975, while Head Writer for the "Happy Days" TV series, for Americans saying to each other "Sit on it."
It's actually a BELL-y-ache. Thanks for sharing your FRANKEN-sense.
ReplyDeleteThis somehow reminds me of a former boss of mine named George, who was a second father to me and whom I miss a lot.
ReplyDeleteGeorge retired some years ago to look after his wife, who was ailing.
One election season he kept getting calls on behalf of a local state legislator.
George kept trying to explain to the frequent callers that they were greatly inconveniencing him, given the amount of time he had to spend looking after his wife, who, among other things, couldn't dress herself.
The calls kept coming anyway.
My friend George wasn't a journalist for 50 years for nothing, so he managed to ferret out the lawmaker's home phone number and call him directly.
The local lawmaker wasn't pleased.
George made it known that he didn't care that the local lawmaker was not pleased.
I don't know for sure, but I suspect that the calls on behalf of the lawmaker stopped.
And I will always treasure the memory of the devilish grin on George's face when he told me this story.