|(shhhhh! don't tell aunt P i posted this pic!)|
hey, so remember how my parents cancelled their landline? and how they subsequently realized there was nothing but shit reception within a 10 mile radius of their house?
well, bravely they have carried on these last two years. and while they haven't gone to the lengths of joe and burvil- who, before the internet and cell service arrived at their house, would journey five miles up the road every tuesday to sit in the parking lot of the new post office and make their calls- there's been a lot of complaining and a lot of whining and a lot of unnecessary vitriol when every call they make to their beloved daughter in london is dropped at least once.
never mind that they huddle in the point of best reception, against the glass of the window in the east corner of their bedroom between the fishtank and the chair-and-a-half. still, the calls are dropped. still, everyone sounds either alien or darth vader. still there are constant pleas of 'what? i didn't catch that? what did you say?'
we eatons would make a terribly convincing belltone ad.
remember also that we are enslaved to sprint until the year 2512. oh yes, debo and gary will be making calls with shitty reception in the afterlife too.
what has sustained my parents, i think, is the belief that everyone else in the world lives this way, suffering shitty cell service in silence. in their defense, they have maintained an uncharacteristically stiff lip.
what has turned the tides is the realization that, actually, no one lives like this. that good service isn't so much an impossible dream as a dream that many people- people in our own family!- have attained.
my cousin graduated high school a few weeks ago and debo and gary roadtripped with burvil up to NC to celebrate the graduate. (this has led to the lovely assumption that when i graduate, instead of the reasonable traveling of 3 people to north carolina, 8 people will be traveling to london to cheer me.) whereupon my mother took numerous calls from me in numerous locations throughout my aunt's house.
the prevailing emotion was disgust.
promptly she called sprint to inform them of the injustice that had been perpetrated against her. she had made calls in north carolina from a basement! calls that, at home, she could not have made from her own bed. yes, the horrible truth was that a town of 33,000 people had superior cell service to hers.
since we approaching royalty at sprint- obligated as we are to them through 2512- sprint was deeply apologetic. my mother deigned to offer forgiveness.
and my father, a look of glee in his eye, bragged on my mother's southern stubbornness, which has now garnered them their very own cell tower for free. all they had to do was renew their contracts for just a few more years...