Ring the Wrong Number
By Anthony Buccino
Hit the Hay, X-ray, X-ray
Another coded message found its way to our answering machine. This time the voice sounded serious and disguised at the same time, but the message was in code. At least thats what all the great minds that heard the tape decided. It must be in code. It doesnt make sense otherwise. Yes, it must be in a secret code.
The advent of our home fax machine turns quickly from blessing to curse to curse words. At 3:30 a.m. our phone rings and, of course, it is Mon-sewer Fax. I can tell this when I say hello and he beeps at me. I hang up, trying to allow myself enough time to get the old computer going before he redials. But at least the dog is happy.
No. I told her I had nothing to do with missing shopping channels. In spite of my record years ago of deleting them and her never knowing we got home shopping channels, I'm actually innocent this time.
The toughest part about setting favorites is reading the tiny names of the networks in the options field Optimum provides. Maybe if you had a 100-inch screen these words would be readable
Last July, somebody named Omar posted, Youll thank me for this when you get older. He then added, No, Mom, my therapist thanks you!
Essays, photography, military history, more
New Jersey author Anthony Buccino's stories of the 1960s, transit coverage and other writings earned four Society of Professional Journalists Excellence in Journalism awards.
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