Tin Cans and String

When I was a little boy, I told my mother that I wanted to make a telephone out of tin cans and string. You know, the way the Egyptians used to do it in the old west. Her eyes never left the T.V. as she waved her hand distractedly in my direction and told me to "shoosh".

C'mon, I told her, I want to talk on the phone like Daddy used to before that old bandsaw took off his "yellin' parts". She politely told me to shut the fuck up and, without turning her gaze from the screen, pushed a sewing needle through the bottom of a dixie cup and handed it to me. "It's wireless", she said. "Unlimited long distance. With a foreign language translator. And a bacon detector. Now go away."

I never could get a hold of anyone on that damn phone. My mother said we were the only family in the world that could afford one. She seemed pretty happy about that; so I just sat in the corner for hours and quitely talked into my new phone about how lonely I was.