Telephone Etiquette...Note to ARP

TO YOU, the Annoying, Rude Person (ARP) who made me feel confused and irritated when I called Jim's house tonight:

Okay, when you are at someone else's house and you decide to answer the phone, try to remember that IT'S NOT YOUR PHONE (OR YOUR HOUSE), so it's helpful to remember that the innocent person calling DOESN'T KNOW YOU, CAN'T SEE YOU and is calling for the person who LIVES THERE, not for YOU. Ergo, have some flipping manners and identify yourself!

I called the neighbor Jim's house, figuring my husband had wandered over there for a Saturday evening cocktail, and since our fantastic roast was about to come out of the oven for dinner, I knew he might want to head back our way. Here's the exchange:

ARP: Hello?

Me: Hi. It's Barb. Is my husband over there?

ARP: Who??

Me: Barb Blogger. Is Mark over at your house?

ARP: (confused and annoyed): Mark?? Mark who?!

(So, now I'm thinking either I have the wrong number, or Jim thinks he's a comedian, and Mark is high-tailing it out of there.)

Me: Mark Blogger, my husband. Are you just playing, or is he really not there?"

ARP: Who the hell is Mark?!

FINALLY, the fool (YOU, ARP!) hand the phone to your BROTHER, JIM, and I can finally talk to the person I called for, who tells me that my husband is not there. See, since I'm calling JIM, it's safe for me to assume that when a man sounding like JIM answers the telephone and says hello, it's probably JIM. You, however, as the guest in someone else's house, cannot assume that the caller is clairvoyant and knows that you are actually JIM's brother. See, cuz IT'S NOT YOUR HOUSE! When you answer the telephone at someone else's house, it's polite to say, "Hello, Smith residence. This is ARP." or "Smiths, ARP speaking. Hang on a minute; I'll get Jim." It's basic courtesy for anyone who can think past the end of his/her nose. This goes for babysitters, visiting relatives, or just plain anyone who is not incredibly self-centered. It happens sometimes to innocent folks, I know. But follow up your mistake with, "Oops! Sorry; let me get Jim for you!" instead of acting like I'm some kind of moron pranking you. Get your head out of your butt and realize that you're not at your own house!

Now, Blog-Reading Friends, I have to say that if you don't understand why this bugs me so much, then you have probably been ARP at one point or another and just want to justify yourself. It's okay. I still love you. Maybe it's just that I was so darned hungry when I made that call that I had no reserves left for tolerance. Good thing it was a damned good roast, and I am now well-fed and only mildly annoyed. Maybe I'll head over to Jim's for dessert...

Good and Bad

Today, Saturday, I spent the entire day chaperoning Singing in Wisconsin, a wonderful event designed to teach and inspire choir students from across the state. The Girl and 170 middle school comrades dedicated seven hours (minus a 45-minute lunch and one 15-minute break) to polishing their performance in a warm, crowded choir room, preparing for a terrific concert that ended the day. As one of three chaperones in the room, I had a ball. (Just kidding; but that’s for another blog called, “The Joys of Chaperoning Middle Schoolers.”)

The concert itself was beautiful. There is nothing like the sound of children’s voices to choke me right up and inspire me once again to join a choir (I haven’t, but I hope to, one day.) I was incredibly impressed by the hard work the kids put in, being mostly on their feet all day; a beautiful fall Saturday that they could have spent doing any number of other things. Their dedication paid off; the concert was outstanding. I was proud of all of the kids.

What wasn’t terrific, however, was my encounter, once again, with ARP! Okay, never mind those annoying ARPs who apparently don’t have flipping ZOOM buttons on their cameras and have to walk directly up to the stage mid-performance to snap a photo. (And no, ARP, it doesn’t make it better when you hunch your shoulders up and tiptoe, as if to hide what you’re doing—WE CAN STILL SEE YOU THERE, and it’s still distracting! And honestly, when there are more than 100 kids on the stage on risers, is it really worth it to "sneak" up there for a shot of your kid's head in a sea of other heads? Does that one really end up in the scrapbook?)

Anyway, today I’m talking about a different ARP. You know the type. She’s the one who thinks her toddler is so darned cute, she should pretend to not notice the fact that the rug rat has gotten loose and is hurdling herself toward the stage, mid-performance (about 400 times). There were five steps leading up to the stage from the isle, almost dead-center, and your little darling, ARP, was not cute climbing up and down them and running up and down the isle during the concert, taunting you to get up off your butt and catch her. The pathetic part was that a 2-year old she knew she belonged in a park, and not in a theater, but you did not. You sat on your can, three rows back, while the rest of us held our breath, waiting for her to climb directly onto the stage (Is that the cute act you were trying to “accidentally” orchestrate, sitting there, with only a few half-hearted attempts to control your child?)

What? You wanted to hear the choir, so you couldn’t just grab her by the Pampers and take her out, screaming or not? Guess what, ARP?! Your desire to listen did not trump the 600 other people behind you, who also wanted to enjoy the hard work of their kids today. How hard is it to find a babysitter for one hour on a Saturday afternoon? Seriously, if you really think she’s that cute, you should have taken her to a baby contest at the mall, not to a concert. That way, you could get your personal need to be in the limelight taken care of, along with the other stage moms. Today's stage was not for you, ARP. Luckily, the talent on the risers trumped your lack of consideration. Next time, please leave your littlest "Star" at home.

ARP Behind the Wheel

To the ARP (Annoying Rude Person) who rolled down your window and screamed “F--K YOU!” at me, all bulgy-eyed and red-faced as you passed: You, Sir, are the &!*%$, not me!! I know this for sure, because I am the one who, during her driving test 28 years ago, changed lanes in the middle of an intersection and was told in no uncertain terms later that that is NOT LEGAL. So, when I stopped (with my right turn signal on) and turned RIGHT (slowly, in case you were a knot-head) into the RIGHT lane, I was in the RIGHT, whereas you, oncoming ARP turning LEFT, should have turned left into the LEFT lane, not the RIGHT one!

You see, there are two lanes there for a reason, and when you have your left turn signal on, it means you need to turn into the left lane; it doesn’t mean, “I’m going in this general direction, so everyone else better stay the hell out of my way!” So, the next time you decide to roll your window down and scream yourself hoarse at someone, I hope you will first consider your own actions. And then keep your mouth shut (you could have an aneurysm, for crying out loud!)

Elsie Mae, the ARP?

It's kind of a movie time-of-year, isn't it? (So hot, you can only go to the movies to stay cool!) I recently came upon this cute post about my mom from 2008, and I thought you'd appreciate it.


I love my mom. How can you not love a lady whose name is Elsie Mae and who says things like, "Oh My Stars and Garters!?" She has a childlike enthusiasm for everything life has to offer. However, I'm afraid my mom is a movie ARP! [my own term, short for Annoying, Rude Person]

I took Mom to see Atonement last week. It always happens this way; I ask her to the movies, and only on the way there do I remember how potentially uncomfortable it can be to be in a theater with Mom. As you can imagine (see sidebar), her sense of humor is sometimes a bit, well...different than some. At movies, she laughs out loud at the funny parts, but Mom also laughs out loud at parts that are only funny to her. She also has a habit of stating the obvious in a loud way. For example, in one of the beginning scenes of Atonement, you see two boys of the same age, with the same curly, red mops for hair, same outifts,etc. Mom announces (loud and clear) "They're twins!" [Thanks, Mom; I hadn't realized.]

Early in the movie, there is a very, very inappropriate word typed onto a typewriter. Let me just warn you; it rhymes with "punt," and it can be very alarming to see that right-off-the-bat with your 78-year-old mother sitting next to you. I threw my hand up over her eyes the second time I saw it coming, and she chuckled,"What kind of movie did you take your old mother to, Girl?!" (This lady is sweet, I tell you!)

When one of the characters later said a swear-word, Mom admonished out loud, "Watch your 'slanguage,' Young Man!" She is so funny, so cute, and so annoying all at the same time. Fortunately, we have never gotten any dirty looks (it may be too dark to see them?), and we've never been asked to leave, so maybe it's not as bad as I fear?

As annoying as these habits can be, though, I have to admit that hearing Mom belly-laugh and exclaim "Oh, my heavens!" every now and then is totally worth it. There will come a day when she won't be there to annoy me, and I'll wish she was there to remind me of what's funny, delightful, and charming about life.

So, if you are ever at the movies and you hear a lady talking out loud and laughing at odd times, imagine that she is Elsie Mae, and instead of being mad, smile.

This post is also linked up at Life, Music, Laughter: Tuesdays Gone Blog Hop!

Elsie Mae, the ARP?!?

I love my mom. How can you not love a lady whose name is Elsie Mae and who says things like, "Oh My Stars and Garters!?" She has a childlike enthusiasm for everything life has to offer. However, I'm afraid my mom is a movie ARP! I took her to see Atonement last week. It always happens this way; I ask her to the movies, and only on the way there do I remember how potentially uncomfortable it can be to be in a theater with Mom. As you can imagine (see sidebar), her sense of humor is sometimes a bit, well...different than some. At movies, she laughs out loud at the funny parts, but Mom also laughs out loud at parts that are only funny to her. She also has a habit of stating the obvious in a loud way. For example, in one of the beginning scenes of Atonement, you see two boys of the same age, with the same curly, red mops for hair, same outifts,etc. Mom says, loud and clear, "They're twins!" Early in the movie, there is a very, very inappropriate word typed onto a typewriter. Let me just warn you; it rhymes with "punt," and it can be very alarming to see that right off the bat with your 78-year-old mother sitting next to you. I threw my hand up over her eyes the second time I saw it coming, and she chuckled,"What kind of movie did you take your old mother to, Girl?!" (This lady is sweet, I tell you!) When one of the characters later says a swear word, Mom says out loud, "Watch your 'slanguage,' Young Man!" She is so funny, so cute, and so annoying all at the same time. Fortunately, we have never gotten any dirty looks (it may be too dark to see them?), and we've never been asked to leave, so maybe it's not as bad as I fear?

As annoying as these habits can be, though, I have to admit that hearing Mom belly-laugh and exclaim "Oh, my heavens!" every now and then is totally worth it. There will come a day when she won't be there to annoy me, and I'll wish she was there to remind me of what's funny, delightful, and charming about life. So, if you are ever at the movies and you hear a lady talking out loud and laughing at odd times, imagine that she is Elsie Mae, and instead of being mad, smile.

Dear ARP at the "Service" Desk,

Don’t give me that look, ARP; that “Please don’t ask me to do something for you, cuz I don’t want to” look. I asked you to solve a small problem, and you responded (annoyed), “We can’t fix that here. Corporate has to do that.” “So there!” your raised eyebrows added. I was very patient with you. I calmly asked, “Well then, what needs to happen for them to do that?” You responded with a snippy attitude, as if filling out a form was going to make you break a nail or something (or maybe you just had a bad taste in your mouth from breakfast; your pursed lips told me you weren’t going to cooperate.)

I could see you were really irritated that you were not going to get paid for doing nothing today, so I finally said, “You know what? Just forget it. It’s not that big of a deal.” I didn’t mean it, but I said it, and I said it calmly (without malice, I think). I figured I’d just talk to your manager about it tomorrow. You might be a mind reader, because suddenly, you snapped to attention and pulled out your little form that you could have taken out five minutes earlier. You became Super Service Woman and even offered that the form would only take a second to complete. Was your boss standing behind me or something? Did you have a schizophrenic personality shift? Or did you just suddenly see the reflection of your hostile self in my eyes? Whatever the reason, you finally took care of what I needed. Thank you.

Friday Fragments, Episode #158

Welcome to Friday Fragments, where we unload the mental miscellany from our minds to relax for the weekend.  First time here? You're more than welcome to link up your own fragments! (FF specifics can be found by clicking the tab above.)

*I am so, so sorry for the mess-ups with the linky last night and with the funky order of posting. I was very distracted by some terrible news about my student (who got hit by a car on the 29th and is now not expected to recover), as well as by a couple of other things, and I goofed it up). Thanks for understanding.

*If you're wondering where I've been lately, I've been getting ready for school. As I type this, I reek of kittens, puppies, cigarettes, and filth. Can you guess why?

*I received an email this week from a young, teacher-guy who is trying to get a game off the ground and looking for exposure. I watched Joe's promotional video out of curiosity and agree to help him get the word out, because it looks like fun to me. I also read his bio, and it turns out he is not just some clown (no offense, Lisleman) who sits around playing games (or giving the Jersey shore a bad name)--He is a teacher with an award-winning, educational game called The Merbs, which helps kids get motivated about school work. Please consider supporting Joe's project, either PR-wise or financially.

*Brainella introduced me to the music of 2Cellos last week. They are two hot, young men (What?! They are!) who play rock music on their cellos, and they are phenomenal at it. Wow! Since she shared Welcome to the Jungle, I will share Smooth Criminal:

*A home visit--That's why I reek of poverty right now. The sad part is that it was all at one house (four hours ago), and I never even went inside.

*This photographic essay, Where Children Sleep, by James Mollison came to me by way of Jene's Google+ post. The photographer took snaps of children and their bedrooms, all over the world.  It's very powerful and well-done. (Thanks, Jene.)

*I read an article this week about how flashmobs are evolving (in some cities) away from just-for-fun entertainment to "Let's-cause-some-trouble" (as in the riots in Tottingham, England). At the end of the article, a police chief suggested that instead of for trouble, kids might organize to do a flashmob of something positive, such as cleaning up a park. Isn't that a great idea?! I can also see a flashmob at a nursing home or something like that; where a mass of kids come and sing some old-time melody that fills the old folks's heart up with love and nostalgia. I would love to be a part of something like that.

*If you haven't been here lately (I understand). Here's what you missed this week and might want to check out:  Videos of Kendall's "special" trick or Cooper, in What Dogs Do When They Retire. I also posted a cute story about my mom, so if you haven't had your Elsie-fix in a while, you can check out Elsie Mae, the ARP?!

*I met Kris Schirmer this week, when he shared my Colorful Massage audio post on Google+. (How nice was that?!) I haven't listened to it in about two years, so I tuned in again and LMAO. The story was written by my sister, Michelle (when she had a blog), and she graciously allowed me to record it. If you've never heard the story, I highly recommend listening, or heck--downloading it to your mp3 player! Be careful, though, you might fall off your bike/elliptical machine. [Write/reader not responsible for accidents that may occur.]

*I just received a message from a co-worker about our student who was hit by a car on July 29th. The news is not good. Only a miracle will help now. If you're the praying type, please pray for Brennan's family.

Link your FF post below. (Sorry--this linky is only for FF posts. All others will be deleted)...

Friday Fragments

"My parents checked out of their parenting gig when I was probably 10. They followed other more worthwhile pursuits. I was cast adrift on a sea of self-doubt and loneliness with a shoreline of despair in my sights."

This powerful quote is an excerpt from a post from Four by 40, who has bravely written of her personal experience with abortion many years ago. I found her story moving, educational, and powerful. To read the series, start here.
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If you haven't read my post, Bent, But Not Broken, (my friend Molly's story, posted last Saturday) I strongly encourage you to do so; it will be one of the best posts you have read; I promise.
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I laughed and laughed (til I cried) this week at this hilarious comment from Monica on Melissa's blog, Stretch Marks:

In order to avoid a long, drawn out explanation of why kids couldn't be in the hot tub i told my then 7, 5 and 3 yrd olds that they couldn't be in the hot tub because their livers weren't fully formed and they would cook. Worked like a charm.

The guilt didn't set in until my 7 yr old started crying later that night, after he realized he was sitting with his back against his grandmother's heating pad. "cooking his liver."

For more "Mommy Confessions," read here.
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Dear ARP at the Teacher In-service,
I know you think you were the only one with more important things to do than listen to the training on Crisis Intervention and Prevention, but your incessant talking (out loud) to your seatmate was so annoying that I almost needed the Crisis Intervention training to deal with you. Yes, it was required. Obviously, you're a genius intervener already and don't need the training, so next time; do your nails, pick your nose, read a book, do a crossword puzzle, solve a Soduko puzzle, or write a blog post, but do the rest of us a favor and please SHUT UP!

Okay. I feel better now.
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Got a Friday Fragments post to share? Add your link here (non-FF posts will be deleted). Don't forget to comment first, please :)