So we parents are standing around the buses getting ready to take our kids off to the Tetons last weekend. My son graciously came up to me early, said “Let’s get this over with now”, and gave me a big hug. His friend had done the same to his mother, and then they got into a contest over which parents they could lift. Boys. So after they trooped on the bus, and then back off to get their picture taken, and then back on, the parents were talking. The moms were all worried – did I pack everything, what did I forget, I hope they don’t get cold, how are they going to handle the snow, what will they do on the long bus ride, did I pack enough snacks, fret fret fret. The dads were all envious – what a great trip, wish I was going, what a great time they are going to have. Ah, the division of labor – someone to worry, someone to enjoy.

Breakfast table 6:45 AM

Her: Oooh, what a beutiful pink sunrise!

Me: Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.

Long Pause

Me: But it sure is pretty.

I suppose most people first look at the amount they owe when they get their cell phone bill. Not The Murphy Family. We look at the minute usage first thing. And why not, the amount hardly changes. This month we were even more keenly interested because there was a new entrant. In the early days of our cell phones, there were only two – one for me, and one for the funWife. The results were predictable – she always had 10x the minutes used I did. The reason was simple – I only used it to take calls from her. She used it to make calls to everybody. That and I’m a man of few words (at least when I speak them, not write them).

But then we got one for the female Fruit of the Murphy Loins, and the two women vied for first place. I would have thought that a teenager would beat a, well, not a teenager anymore, in the talking on the phone derby, but the fFotML isn’t a big phone talker. It could be that in that regard she didn’t fall from my tree, or it could be that other options like IM and more recently Facebook allowed her to communicate with her friends in a way other than talking on the phone (I’m not even going to mention texting, and yes, we have a special texting rate fee just because of her).

Then my numbers came up when I started to actually call people with my phone. OK, not really people, just the funWife, and I did so on special occasions like when I was dispatched to the store and couldn’t remember what she wanted. I quickly learned to call and instead of admitting the real reason, I’d ask if there was something else she wanted in the hopes that what she told me already would come up:

ME: “Is there something else you wanted from the store?”
Her: “As long as you’re in the baking aisle pickup up an 8 oz bag of chocolate chips, why not stroll over to the diary section and pick up some yoghurt because you ate the last one.”

Of course the conversation never happened like that, and then I’d have to ask if there was a particular size or brand she wanted me to get. That never worked out either (“Size? They only come in one size” or “Brand? Whatever is cheapest”), so now I make a list. But I still ran the minutes up because if you’ve ever been dispatched to the grocery store, you realize that there are minimum of seven choices for any particular item, and your briefing didn’t cover one of them:

ME: OK, I’m looking at the green beans in 8 oz cans, and they have all natural, low sodium, with bacon, with onions, cajun, with potatos, and lite. Which one do you want?”
HER: “Just buy plain”

So now at least I’m up to like a third of the minutes the rest of the family racks up.

But when we added my father to the mix, we got a real surprise. When we went to open bill, we figured “how many minutes can an old man use?” We expected that he might beat me the first bill just because he’d be calling for novelties sake. Well, he was numero uno – he beat the gals hands down. We just had to know. It wasn’t like we were close to our minutes, but how was he averaging 10 minutes a day on his phone? As it turns out, my parents were using it like an intercom. Kind of like the communicators with the original Star Trek cast, only younger. And then lots of months he would inadvertanly use some odd service – texting, email, ringtones. He had a blast with that phone without even realizing it.

So now the male Fruit of the Murphy Loins has the phone (my mother’s arthritis doesn’t allow her to use the phone). So yesterday we got the first bill. Let me just say my son talks on the phone like me, only less so because (1) fewer people call him, and (2) he doesn’t have a brother in California. The only call I could think of was when he was coming back from the Truman Library to let us know to pick him up. I didn’t think he’d even break the 2 digit barrier on minutes. Ha, shows you how much I know, he was in contention for numero uno. I was in such shock, he might have even BEEN numero uno. Once I recover, that boy and I have to talk.

Face to face, I don’t want to run up his minutes.

It’s the Most Busiest Time Of The Year, and the Murphy Family is no different. We’ve been fortunate here in St. Louis to have missed the worst of the ice and instead just suffered from ceasless overcast and light rain for the past week. A couple of days I went to work with no ice on the trees in my neighboorhood but ice on the trees where I work – that’s how close to the edge we were on temperature. Normally we talk about how changable the weather is here, but lately its been all too steady.

I’m not one to bemoan insurance companies, only in part because the funWife is an insurance claims adjuster.

However

Yesterday I had my mother call back the two life insurance companies my father had policies with after over a week went by without the paperwork they said they’d send to process the claim. Both can pull up on their computer screens all the details with just a name and social security number; both say it takes 2 weeks (or more!) for the paperwork to arrive. Look, I have talked to old folks homes one day and had their brochures in hand the next via the US mail. The only thing that takes these companies two weeks to send the paperwork just so we can send it back with a death certificate is greed – they want to hold onto the money as long as they can.

I’m wondering if it takes 2 weeks to mail a letter, how long will it take to actually pay?

So I’m calling around looking for an independent or assisted living place for my mother, and the marketing department lady from one of them stops me as I start my shpiel and says

“I have two questions that are really important when it comes to finding your mother the right place for her to live”

“OK, what are they?”

“What is your name?”

“Kevin Murphy”

‘What is your phone number?”

Oh yeah, those were a couple of penetrating questions that really cut to the heart of where my mother should live.

Salespeople.

The blog has been quiet, but life hasn’t been. My father passed away Oct 23 and my mother-in-law passed away Oct 26. My father died at home of a heart attack, and my wife and I were there. My mother-in-law passed away after suffering from Alzheimer’s for years. We are all in God’s hands.