Since about 65% (statistic courtesy of the Republican Budget Office) of the phone calls I get seem to be from people calling on cell phones in gale-force winds, I wind up asking 65% of the people who call me, "Who is this, please?" because hardly anyone ever starts off a conversation with, "Hi, this is Oscar" or, "Hello, Mark, it's Mr Lodge, Veronica's father."
Everyone seems to think their voice is instantly recognizable, and if I might humbly ask that we go back to identifying ourselves to those with whom we are not in frequent phone contact, I'd be happy to do so. Thanks.
Similarly, say you worked with someone in 1978, or met a couple on vacation in the Gilligan Islands some years ago. Do you love it when they walk up to you, all hale and hearty, slapping you on the back and stating that it's GOOD to see you? It's like:
"How you doin', Marky boy? How you hittin' 'em, son? Lookin' gooooooooood! (done in Freddie Prinze, Sr., accent.)"
and the best comeback I can muster is
"Hey, buddy BOY! Whaddya hear; whaddya say? How is...........? "
"Oh, Mildred?! She's fine! We were just saying, we got to call Mark and Peggy and get together with those two nuts!"
And it's at that moment that I get this "Wonder Years" voice in my head saying that this guy remembers our home address, phone number, cell number, old work number, new work number and rental bowling shoe size.
If only he could remember to say, "Hey, Mark! I'm Jim Shortz, good to see you again..." we'd be off and running.
Otherwise, I'm the only one running, and I can't run fast enough.