I missed the call but called him right back and left a message. It's fruitless to leave messages because he doesn't listen to them ... but I still leave them. He sits in the same place every day in front of his TV with the giant headphones on and only takes them off for the few precious seconds he uses his phone.
We finally connected.
"Sammy!" I said as he answered the phone.
There was silence.
"Sammy?"
"What did you say?"
"I said Sammy ... hello Sammy."
"Joel?"
"Yes."
"Did you call me Charlie?"
"No ... I said Sammy."
"Who's Charlie?"
"I said SAMMY?"
"Schloima?"
"NO ... SAMMY."
"Oh ... listen ... I wanted to tell you how sorry I was about the South Florida game (we lost yesterday to Cincinnati) and not be down about it."
"Thanks Dad ... it was a tough loss ..."
"How about LSU, huh? Are they great?"
"Yes they are ... I know you must be happy ..."
"Are you still at the USF game?"
"No it was over 2 hours ago ... "
"That's a shame ... LSU is great, huh? "
"Yes."
"Another thing ... can you take me to breakfast tomorrow?"
"Oh .... sorry Dad ... tomorrow morning we can't do breakfast ... but we'll come over in the afternoon."
"Okay ... bring me a chicken pot pie ..."
"Okay ... we look forward to seeing you."
"From Boston Market ..."
"Okay ... good to talk to you."
"Kentucky Fried Chicken would be good."
"Okay ..."
"Don't be sad."
"I won't ..."
"GO TIGERS."
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