My nephew just died. Saturday. 36. Or was he 37? Doesn’t matter at this point. He’s dead now. And lots of people wish they’d called. You know, called. Not a text. Not a FB fucking message. Not some lame like. Or emoticon of love to make you feel better. Not an email. Not a What’sApp. Not a LinkedIn you’re really great at LinkedIn posts post. Nope. Just a call. That they never made. Cause you know what? Nobody calls. Nobody. Maybe your super close friends who are on your speed dial and recently called list and not too tough to pocket dial and pretend you didn’t actually call but “huh” I really meant to call call but hey let’s talk oh hang on here’s another call coming in kinda call. But those don’t count. The real calls that count are the Academy Award winning, Bob Dylan got one and I should for this call calls that come out of the blue and the person says “Hi. Hi. How are you?” “ Sorry. Let me get the car back on the road here.” “Say what??” “How are you?” “Me?” “Yeah. What’s going on?” That’s a heart stopping question in today’s world. Everyone assumes you’re ok. Everyone. Cause of social media and cell phones and text and headphones the world thinks you’re ok. So they don’t call. Which is a shame. Your voice is way more expressive than your typing. Your voice says volumes. Your voice soothes. Cries. Laughs. Sends far stronger messages than any cute little emotionless emoticon will ever do. Call. Don’t write. Call. Call. Land line or otherwise. They’ll pick up.

Who you going to call?