For Insanity . . . Press 1 . . .

We've all had those frustrations of waiting on the telephone while a recorded voice leads us through a series of directions: "For service, press one . . . for better service, press two . . . if you really need service, press three . . . if you are near death and want to make your last will and testament . . . press four. . . ."

Last week, I had the frustrating experience of trying to return a call from a television producer (yes, a Producer . . . as in "I want to be a producer" sung by Matthew Broderick). Of course, as I discovered, it was tough to actually talk to the producer.

I would begin my odyssey by listening to a series of recorded instructions that went something like this: "If you wish to talk to Billy Bob, press one . . . if you wish to talk to Bobbi Sue, press two . . . if you wish to talk to Mini Me, press three . . . ." Naturally, I would always wait for the final instruction, which was something like, "If you would like to talk to a real flesh-and-blood human being who is making minimum wage and probably doesn't have any clue who you are or how to connect you to the person who can really help you . . . press zero!"

I've become very adept at pressing zero as soon as I hear one of these recordings. Sometimes I get shot out the other end of the pipeline and end up talking to someone in New Delhi who asks for my social security number and the security code to my bank account (I readily give this information since there's nothing in my bank account--all my cash is at Ball State and IU--and no one in his/her right mind would desire to steal my identity). But usually I end up talking to a young receptionist who answers the phone was a quick, "Hello . . . could you please hold?"

Right away I'm making progress . . . I'm "in the system." And I wait. And wait. And eventually I reach the voice mailbox of the Producer who informs me: "I'm either on another call or away from my desk, please leave a message at the sound of the tone."

But as soon as the little bell sounds, I can never remember why I called. I usually just hang up, and some days later I'll think to myself, "Hey, self . . . I've got to call that TV producer back. I've heard that somebody out there is trying to reach me."