It has been a long time since I sat by the phone waiting on a call.

I am doing just that right now.  My dear wife, Carrie, is out eating with some co-workers and I sincerely hope they are having a great time.  She is supposed to call, soon, I assume, and tell me where to meet her to pick her up to bring her home.  We are down to one car.  The main source of our transportation is getting brake work done.  We will need it this Saturday when we travel to Indianapolis to watch the North Harrison Lady Cats play for a State Championship Title in Girls Basketball.

So here I am…waiting on the call.

You don’t hear that much these days….”I’ll call you tonight!”  I suppose young people text each other all hours of the day and night.  I text.  I text when I want my dear wife to pick up a pizza.  I text other folks when necessary.  It is usually not necessary.

My phone is a relic,  compared to the phones around me.  I still like it.  It still works.  It has no apps.  I hear people talking about apps.  Is that how you spell them?

Before we had cell phones, I remember one night I was worried about how late Carrie was out with her pals.  I wrote a song in about the time it takes to sing it.  I was having some troublesome thoughts.  That song turned out to be one that helped someone out that actually did lose a loved one.  It was a surreal experience to hear them talk about it.  I wrote it thinking what it would feel like to lose out.  I was told I did it just that.  It kind of made me feel a little guilty.

Write me.  Call me.  Text me.  Skype me.  Face time me?  I have heard that face time reference but I don’t know what that means.

Many of you know I worked at Medora Schools for a decade and a half.  Today I met the lady the school board hired to be the new counselor when I left.  We were at the same professional meeting in New Albany.  I signed into the conference below her.  At one point her computer was not working and I offered to share mine.  I asked her how a few of the students back in Medora were doing.  I called them by name.  Her eyes got big and she called me by name.  I obviously left the place on as good of terms as I thought I did.  That was nice to affirm.  I told her I was glad she was being allowed the ability to focus on counseling and not try to fit in a few of the other duties I was assigned along the way.  The students, and she, will be better for it.

I’m still waiting on the call.  But it is still early.  Not reaching for my guitar yet.

Speak the rights.

Danny Johnson