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      Thursday, February 02, 2012

09:32 AM - 02/02/2012

The topic: A long time ago


Brian and I had season tickets to the San Diego Chargers.  To avoid the traffic, we always took one of the buses that took fans to the games. We bought our passes at the beginning of the season so we got a break on the cost.

Well, one Sunday morning Brian went over to his folks’ house and was doing stuff with Mark (this was before Mark was married). It was getting late, I started getting a little concerned that Brian wouldn’t be home in time to get ready (sometimes when he gets involved in things that occupy his mind and hands, he loses all track of time).

Now, I don’t believe in a wife calling her husband every ten minutes for whatever reason. And when he’s working, I most certainly won’t call, unless it’s an emergency. I know how annoying it can be. I spent ten years in a job where I had periods of intensive, time sensitive paperwork to do and having to take customer calls would put me off of my rhythm. My paperwork would take that much longer to finish. If this is the way it is for me, I’m sure it’s even more so for someone doing physical work. To have to stop and answer the phone, listen to some new inanity from me (gee, the sun’s up, isn’t it a pretty day?).  Nope. I realize the more I’d call, the longer the job will take to finish. And the later Brian will get home. So, I don’t call.  Well, I do call when I want to know if I should expect him home in a timely manner for dinner. I don’t like to eat late, my stomach can’t handle it and I’d rather eat early than not eat at all.

So, this Sunday morning, so long ago, I called to remind Brian of the time.  Mark answered the phone and when I asked for Brian, Mark, very rudely said “give him a break”.  I was gobsmacked. I was speechless. No one had ever spoken to me like that, just out of the blue.  Mark said “are you still there?”  I just hung up.

Well, it’s a few decades later and I have to say, looking on how things have played out, that Karma has a hell of a sense of humor.


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lisaviolet is seventy something, married with no kids, takes care of lots of cats, likes taking photographs, loves Southern California weather and spends altogether too much time avoiding her responsibilities.

In her spare time, she makes pretty things to sell in her store.

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