So Big Brother is now tracking all cell phone calls — at
least, as far as we know, all the calls made by people who use Verizon. I am aghast! Outraged! I feel like protesting! I’m really afraid if this keeps up they will eventually begin recording and listening to my conversations, and I would really hate that because I am full of international secrets and confidential information. Just have a listen below. The following is indicative of the conversations I have with my best friend almost every time she and I talk.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Nothing, what are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Why not?”
“Nothing to do.”
“What did you do yesterday?”
“Watched a 12-hour marathon of Law & Order. You?”
“Cooked a roast and sat on the front porch.”
“Was it good?” ”Yes.”
“How did you cook it?”
“Just threw it in a pot and put it on the stovetop because my oven is broken.”
“You haven’t gotten your oven repaired yet?”
“No. Why should I? It’s just me here.”
“I don’t know. I just thought I would ask.”
“Do you want to go do something?”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know. Can you think of anything?”
“No. There’s nothing to do and it’s hot outside.”
“I know. It’s miserable. My cats hate it. I wish it would storm.”
“How are the cats?”
“Insane. One just rolled his eyes at me.”
“Why did he roll his eyes at you?”
“Because I won’t stop talking to him and asking him questions.”
“What are you asking him?”
“Why he is being so sweet and so mean at the same time?”
“‘Sweet and mean?’ ‘Sweet and mean?'”
“Yes.”
“Dear God.”
“I know, I know.”
“Do you know how to make an 8-year-old cry harder?”
“Please don’t tell me that joke again. And don’t tell me any Helen Keller jokes.”
“Oh, come on. What was her favorite color?”
“Corduroy. You’ve told me that a thousand times.”
“Do you want to go to Target?”
“No.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I can’t think of anything to do.”
“Did you hear that so-and-so died?”
“Yes. Everybody is dropping like flies.”
“I know. And when I die I do NOT want a funeral.”
“Neither do I.”
“I want to be cremated.”
“I am donating my body to science.”
“Not me. I don’t care if I’m dead; I don’t want anyone to see me naked.”
“Well, neither do I, but if it saves someone else’s life …”
“I don’t care about that. I don’t want anyone seeing me naked. Much less a classroom full of science students. Did you watch Dancing with the Stars last night?”
“No, I hate that show. I’ve never seen it, but I hate it.”
“But it was wonderful! So-and-so was on there.”
“I don’t care. I’m not watching it.”
“You’re not still feeding that raccoon on your front porch every night are you?”
“No, I was, but some of his cousins started trying to get down there and I’m afraid they’ll get one of the cats.”
“I told you not to feed that thing in the first place. They are w-i-l-d a-n-i-m-a-l-s.”
“I know, but he was so cute. We named him Gerald. He still looks at me through the window and sniffs the air looking for food and it’s so sad.”
“I don’t care if it’s sad. You need to stop feeding them. Did you ever talk to that Norwegian guy you met in Minneapolis?”
“No.”
“And what was that about the woman with him in the turban?”
“She wasn’t with him. We were just in the same hip-hop bar in that Chinese restaurant.”
“WHY did they have a hip-hop bar in a Chinese restaurant in Minneapolis?”
“I have no idea. Why do they do anything they do in Minneapolis?”
“Did you see Obama’s speech the other night? I just love him SO MUCH.”
“Me too.”
“Okay, I don’t have anything else to say.”
“Neither do I.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Click.
See, that’s the kind of information I don’t want Big Brother getting hold of. What if BB starts to think we are talking code and interprets “go to Target” as “aim for the civilians!” Or they might think “feed the raccoons” really means “supply arms to the enemy.” Or that “hip-hop bar in a Chinese restaurant” is code for “move illegal weapons to the Communists.” Or what if they assume “cook a roast and sit on the porch” means “set a building on fire and watch it burn.” I’m glad I have AT&T.
