By Whitey Harwood

Here’s a little story about a phone call. The only thing I changed are the names.

A few months ago, I had a concern at the VA Medical Center, so I called “Regina,” a registered nurse. Regina said she wouldn’t be able to help me, but she would get someone to call me that could.

Here’s how things went after I answered the call:

“Could I speak to Mr. Harwood?”

“You’re speaking to him.”

“Yes, Mr. Harwood, this is ‘Bambi’ from the VA Medical Center and the reason I’m reaching out to you is because ‘Regina’ reached out to me and said you had reached out to her, and she asked me to reach out to you to see if I could help you. So, how can I help you?”

“Wow!” I said. “You got any reach outs left?”

She said, “Huh?”

“Well, if you do, reach out and hang up that phone. Then reach out and put my name and number on your ‘Do Not Reach Out’ list and then forget you ever reached out to me. That’s how you can help me.”

“But Mr. Harwood, I was only reaching out to you because ‘Regina’ had reached out to me and …”

I cleared the line.

Now I’m satisfied someone reading this will get their cords tangled up and holler, “Wrong number.”

Maybe they had an ancestor that came to America from Poland, so that would make him a Pole.

Maybe that will confuse a reader into thinking I’m writing about a telephone pole instead of a telephone call.

Maybe they were kin to someone or married to someone that received a phone call in the last 243 years. I totally don’t want to discredit (disparage) anyone that ever received a phone call.

Maybe the majority of Americans that received a phone call felt differently from me.

The one that I answered made my head spin, but I certainly would not want to offend (umbrage) anyone for receiving a call.

Most people have either made or received a phone call and are probably most grateful to live in this great country so they have the right to do both, but some people like to make their “calls” and pay their “dues” at other people’s expense.

I know and understand that.

Some people get their emotions in overdrive and then their opinions get cross-wired with the cold hard facts of life. I know and understand that, too. I also know and understand where the bear used the bathroom.

But, this I know and understand better than anyone. I answered the “call” on June 10, 1968, and I answered another “call” a few months ago. One made my head spin for a few minutes.

The other one has had my head spinning for over 50 years now.

Now here’s what I don’t understand: “If poison oak starts with a P and preacher starts with a P and politician starts with a P, how come possum starts with an O?”

Keep on smilin’, and eat more “possum.”

Whitey Harwood lives in Rowan County.