Sometimes we need to listen.


By LISA OWENS

My cell phone rang. (Your brotha's on the phone. Your brotha's callin' you.) I answered. It was my brother; no surprise—you know, the ringtone and all. I launched into my typical tirade. Words to hear myself talk.

Me: "You must have read my mind. I was just phone shopping online, and since you always have a Galaxy phone too, what phone would you recommend?"

My brother: "I never had a Galaxy phone. You should talk to Cooper about phones."

Me: "You did have a Galaxy. I remember that we both had the very first Galaxy at the same time. That's why I started down that path. The path of buying Galaxy phones."

My brother [grumpy]: "Maybe you're right. I can't remember."

Me: "I know I'm right, but anyway; what phone are you using now?" (I hear Lien, his wife, in the background. I hate when he doesn't tell me I am on speaker. I need to tell him to let me know from now on.)

My brother [slightly less grumpy]: "An LG."

Me: "Wow. We are on the same page. That is exactly what my thoughts were. I had an LG once and loved it." (I hear a voice over a loudspeaker in the background.) "What model is it?"

My brother: [silence] (Voice over a loudspeaker, Paging Doctor...)

Me: "Where are you? Are you at home?"

My brother: "No. The hospital. I had a mild heart attack last night."

Me: [finally silent, as I absorb this information from my 55-year-old brother] "Why didn't you tell me to shut up talking about stupid phones?"

My brother [chuckling]: "I was waiting for you to finish. Waiting for you to listen."

Drop me a line and let me know what you think.

Beneath the Surface News. sara@beneaththesurfacenews.com