This morning the phone rang. It was BYU calling. I didn't answer. I've been retired eleven years and barely know anyone at BYU anymore. Tom is in the tub. I yell, "It's BYU, don't answer!"
But Tom being Tom actually called them back to find that it was someone from the Alumni Association. When he heard this, he said, "Oh, I have the wrong number," and hung up.
"Why did you do that?" There is no good answer to this question, and I freely admit it's a bad question in any case.
The phone then rang again. It's BYU again. "Don't answer!" I called to Tom. It rang forever.
It stopped. But immediately it rang again.
Tom answered. It was a man from the Alumni Association. "It's for you!" he called.
I could kill Tom by gouging my thumbs through his eyes while holding my breath. I could kill him. Married almost 52 years, and he doesn't yet get it about me and the phone? Why would I want to talk with any institutional person? They either want money or they want me to drive down I-15 in my car, which is the size of a tuna can, and do something I don't want to do.
A nice man--really, a very nice man--wanted to know if I knew any of Susa Young Gates's progeny, because they were honoring her at homecoming this year.
Why would I know this? I don't know why I would know this.
He reminds me that I wrote a short article on Susa Young Gates for The Encyclopedia of Mormonism.
Oh yes, I forgot I did that. "Well," I said, "Someone asked me to write it and I researched it like I would anything else I didn't know about. I don't know anything about her. I don't even have pioneer ancestors, and I pretty much hate people who do."
No, I didn't say that. Not all of it anyway.
Then, get this, he said, "I read your blog."
COME ON! IS THIS A TRICK?
I blame you, Rob and Jeff.
I wish I remembered Mr. Alumni's name, but I was too busy worrying that he might ask me for money.