Okay. So last night we’re sitting around the coffee table playing Scene It with Linda and Ray, who was visiting for the weekend. The children were tucked in; it was well after nine. Maybe after ten. And the phone rings.
There are only a handful of people who call at that hour: my parents (maybe), my sisters, Bill’s parents, Lynne. Otherwise, the phone ringing at that hour Means Something.
Well, I answered the phone. It was a local call, as revealed by the caller i.d., but it wasn’t a number I recognized. And what do I hear? Something that might pass for a lot of wind, or static, or someone wrinkling a plastic grocery bag at a distance. And faintly, just ever so faintly, music.
“Hello? Hello?” I said, glancing from Bill’s face to that of his mother, to Ray, who were all watching me expectantly.
“Hello?”
Nothing but the wrinkly noise, and — very faintly — music.
I hung up.
About half an hour later, maybe less, the phone rang again. Bill, suspicious, answered it.
Now it was my turn to watch someone’s face, and I did so, along with Linda and Ray. Bill listened intently, then said,
“It’s U2,” and began singing lyrics from “Love and Peace Or Else,” which is number 4 on the latest cd and one of the songs that we agree kicks the corporate boutakis of the Stevenson family.
This, of course, caught my attention, but I didn’t really understand. I had heard music before; the fact that Bill was now hearing music only confirmed our suspicion that the same crank-caller was calling again.
Bill continued to listen, and Realization Struck: “It’s the U2 concert,” Bill said. “It’s Ken and Debbie. They are calling from the U2 concert.” And of course then I remembered that Ken and Debbie are in Philadelphia, and that they had tickets to the U2 concert in Philadelphia last night. And I was grabbing for the phone.
It was still noisy on the line, but I strained to hear it, and I did: Bono’s voice: “I don’t know if I can take it I’m not easy on my knees Here’s my heart you can break it”
Oh My.
Bono on the phone. My phone. On My Phone.
I continued to listen; I could barely make out the sound, but the image was beautiful. I don’t know where Ken and Debbie’s seats were, but I could see them in my mind, with U2 out there somewhere on a fabulously lit stage. Our dear Ken and Debbie, dancing, grinning, cell phone held out over their heads, calling Us.
Hello Hello
I’m at a place called Vertigo
It’s everything I wish I didn’t know
Except you give me something I can feel
