If I Can Do It
so can you
We Fail? But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
And we’ll not fail.
Texting, for this boomer, surely is the greatest invention since the telephone itself, the harnessing of electricity, Rock and Roll, or the wheel even.
I hate calling people on the phone. Whenever I call a friend, or even worse, a relative, I pray that it will go to voice mail so that I can just leave a message and be done with it. Once I actually get into a phone conversation I’m OK, but the act, the very thought, of making that call fills me with existential dread. So you can imagine my horror at being approached — by text, thankfully — about making cold calls on behalf of the Biden/Harris campaign. Immediately torn between guilt at the thought that I should be doing more to flush the turd on November third and terror at the thought of placing calls to perfect strangers and [gasp, shudder] asking them to do something, I kept the message but tried not to think about it. Unfortunately — or not, depending on how you look at it — my conscience pricked me until I finally texted back, “Tell me more.”
