My 7-year-old daughter is sitting in my lap last night while my wife and 6-year-old son were cuddled up on the couch as we watched, the recently released-at-home movie “Hugo”.
Then, I hear our home phone ringing on the other side of the house.
So, I make my daughter scoot over. I get up, wander through the kitchen and through the living room, looking for the ringing phone, hoping it doesn’t wake up the 2-year-old.
I finally find it, but it was too late.
“Damn telemarketers!” I think as I look at the 800 number on the Caller-ID screen. I grab the phone and carry it back with me to the TV room, where my daughter had abandoned me for the comfy confines of the couch with her mom and brother.
About 15 minutes later, it rings again.
“DAD!” everyone yells.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I whisper, walking into the kitchen to answer the phone.
No, it wasn’t a telemarketer. It was a robocall from Attorney General Jim Hood. The recorded voice was saying something about how he was mad at the legislature — like I didn’t already know that.
This was a total waste of my time.
I started to call the A.G.’s office this morning and ask him what was so important that he had to call during my family time — which I don’t get nearly enough of — and then not even have the courtesy of actually being on the other end of the phone.
It’s not just Jim Hood. Anybody running for office likes to interrupt your life without having to interrupt theirs.
I’m not so naive not to realize that robocalls are an effective way for politicians to communicate their one-way, trumped-up message.
Yet, robocalls are rude and intrusive and interrupt my time with my family.
So, Jim, the next time you have something to say, take out an ad in the newspaper. I am much more likely to see it there.