Dad and I were shooting the shit on his porch yesterday evening when my cellphone rang. This always intrigues my father when I get calls. His cellphone is constantly ringing. Mine seldom rings.
“It’s Charlie,” I said to my father. “He says one of his TV’s won’t come on.”
Charlie has a TV in every room except the bathroom and doesn’t watch TV except for a smattering of Home and Garden Television.
“I’ll ride out there with you,” my father said, eager for some more socializing.
It was the medium sized TV in the dining room. Charlie didn’t have his cable box turned on either just like my father earlier in the day. Charlie laughed and laughed. It was contagious and we all got to laughing.
“I can’t believe I got you all the way out here for that,” Charlie said apologizing and laughing at the same time. “I could have sworn I turned it on.”
Dad and I were both just glad to see him and didn’t mind the trip out North 14th Avenue. I was paid two ice cold diet Cokes for my efforts and for which I relished.
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