The Phone Call

(Pictured above:  The Melnor XT... which is not a phone)

The script was called The Shadow Riders, the call was from producer Ed Elbert (The Mighty Quinn) and the phone call happened to be answered by my elderly mother. 
 
With divorce comes many sacrifices, one of which is being flat broke and having to move in with a family member. Bless her heart, that person happened to be my mother. I repeatedly briefed my mother on the importance of any incoming call but somehow the constant admonishments on my part faded over the days, weeks and months and the dire importance of this particular call became as unimportant as any other of the lifestyle choices I had made. 
 
It was summer, the sky was blue, a rarity in Oregon at the time, and a weekend with my daughter was just getting started. As a celebration of the rare Portland weather, I had set up sprinkler in the front lawn and was showing my four-year-old the ins and outs of racing through an abundant water supply. My daughter, was getting the hang of it quite well, squealing and delighting in every dash and dodge through the Melnor 4500 oscillating fun. At forty years of age, and no slouch myself in this department, I was more than willing to provide examples for her for trips through the watery fantastic.
 
I did not hear the phone ring.
 
She could have played their all day but eventually I talk my daughter into going back inside, so we could both dry off and share our stories of humans versus water. At four years of age, it is all about the challenge. We adjourned inside my childhood home and were greeted by mother.
 
“You had a phone call,” she said pleasantly. 
 
My ears perked up. Were they still on the line?
 
“I told them you were busy.” 
 
“Who was it?” I pleaded. “And why didn’t you call me?”
 
“It was someone named Ed,” she answered innocently. 
 
Ed, was of course Ed Elbert the producer of The Mighty Quinn starring Denzel Washington and my favorite femme fatale and poker player, Mimi Rogers. Ed had been producing for over twenty years, while alas, I had only been playing in sprinklers.
 
“What did you tell him?” I gasped
 
“I told him you were playing in the sprinkler.”
 
“With my daughter, right?” You told him I was playing with my daughter?”
My mother offered too long of a pause before answering. She too must have sensed that it was much too late for any salvation from this call and only offered in signature admonishment when confronted with a complicated question. 
 
“I’ll fix you two some lunch?”
 
The phone call was made from a nearby phone booth, the option was eventually signed, and the subject was never brought up between Mr. Elbert and myself.  Several months later, Maverick starring Mel Gibson came out and Hollywood’s taste for westerns once again went dormant. 
 
For the record, the sprinkler remained popular until early Fall.