THE $200K PHONE CALL
The eight of us, with flashlights in our teeth, muscled the TV dish off the trailer and unfolded it. In those days the things were the size of beach cabanas. We did the same with the bulky generator and got it wired up and running. Then we needed to “find the bird.” This was before civilian GPS and the satellite location had to be eyeballed by azimuth and elevation. Later the beautiful woman told me, “That was the most romantic thing I’ve By 2 a.m. we were ready. And then I realized I didn’t have the phone number. The beautiful woman had told me she was going to her parents’ house in Westport, Connecticut, for the holidays. But I didn’t know her father’s first name. I called 411. Back then you got a person on the line – a kind, polite, and patient person. I said, “Hi, I’m in Somalia...” and explained the situation to the 411 lady. She read me all the listings under that last name (a not-uncommon Irish one) in the Westport phone book. “Edward!” I said, “I think she told me her dad’s name was Ed.” The kindly 411 lady tried the number and I got through. I figure it only cost ABC about $200,000 in equipment, vehicles, supplies, payroll, and payoffs to Somali gunmen. ever heard.” She must have meant it because we’re married now and have three children.
I said, “Hi, I’m in Somalia...” “Oh my gosh!” said the beautiful woman, “Are you all right?” “I’m happy!” I said, “And Happy New Year!” “That’s so sweet!” she said. “How on earth did you get through?” “Well, I’m out in the middle of the Somali desert in someplace called Baidoa with these other reporters and we set up the satellite dish and...” Later the beautiful woman told me, “That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.” She must have meant it because we’re married now and have three children. But how romantic would that phone call be today? If it could happen. There are no more kindly 411 ladies sitting with local phone books in their laps. Besides, contemporary beautiful women (I judge by my 20-year-old daughter) don’t even use the phone. They text, which is something my old, arthritic thumbs can’t do no matter how many expert technicians I have with me. If her phone rings, my daughter assumes it’s a robo-call and lets it go to message and then never checks her messages. When I want to phone my daughter I have to e-mail her and make an appointment. She also doesn’t read her e-mails – they’re all spam. Furthermore, contemporary beautiful women (again, judging by my daughter) aren’t up to
62 March 2018
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