I call.
“Dad, how are you? It’s Barry.”
“Who?”
“Barry.”
“I know, I know.”
“It’s cold out there. Minus six.”
“You know, Ba, I notice when I take the plug out of the right ear, when I’m on the phone, I hear better, so I take it out. Otherwise I get interference. What is that called?”
“Interference.”
“That’s what I say, so I take it out. That’s all.”
“Good.”
“So, it’s how cold?”
“Minus six last time I checked.”
“Wow we wow! Good thing you brought the big load last time you came— the juice, the milk, the things I use. I’m stocked up. Good thinking. So what are you doing today? You working or what?”
(Ed. Note: He never misses an opportunity.)
“Yeah. I have some stuff to do here, some writ—”
“—Well, stay there. Don’t go any place if you don’t have to. This is no joke. And with the ice, it ain’t going away so fast, baby.”
“Well, good news, it’s supposed to get up in the fifties by Sunday or Monday.”
“It will probably melt then.”
James Aydelott couldn’t do any better.
Tulsa weather accordi g to Jack