Monday, August 3, 2015

Just Call Me Bunny*, or, What are Siblings For?

     Eight p.m., a summer evening in a coastal New England town. The phone rings. "What was the Final Jeopardy question?" a male voice asks.
     "Who was T.E. Lawrence?" I reply.
     "Did you get it right?" he asks.
     "Of course."
     I picture the person belonging to the voice, with the twinkling blue eyes and Tom Selleck dimple on his chin.
     "Do you think the good folks at No Such Agency are listening in?" I ask.
     On cue, there's static on the phone lines.

     This is a typical conversation between us, one that plays out at least once a week. Craig will call me with some oddball question, usually something to Google, because my brother isn't on the internet. Now that my reputation as a walking, talking Googler of useless information has spread, I also receive such phone calls from my parents. Whereas my brother's calls are usually requests to locate parts for obscure power tools, my mother's questions are more likely to involve some long-dead actor of the '40's, often to settle a bet with her sister. Mom is always right, and I think her sister has yet to make good on the bets.

     Occasionally, I feel the need to reciprocate.
     "Hey, Craig, are you busy?"
     "What do you want?"
     "If I send you a printout, would you make me some templates?"
     "How many?"
     "Just two- a set of two."
     "How many sets?"
     "Just one- for now."
     "How many do you REALLY want me to make?"
     "How many do you want to make?"
     "Well, I'm not going to make you 600, if that's what you're asking."

     Today the templates arrived in all their shining plexiglass glory. It's time to play!

*and if you don't get my reference to Bunny, you MUST watch the movie pictured above. Google it.

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