"Crazy. Deranged." ...

I have a sincere question tonight:

How many calls to a person without an answer/call back makes you a crazy person? (please leave an answer in the comments section)

In my last post, I talked about how if I didn't like someone and wanted them to know it, I simply just stopped answering the phone and cut off all contact with the person. (June 13: this only applies in a short-term, getting to know you situation, not long-term stuff)

But in this sense (and also thinking about when you just start talking to someone new), how soon is it okay to call someone when they haven't answered/returned your phone call?

It's always been a cardinal rule of mine never to call someone twice for any reason before they call back. The person you dialed knows that you called them especially if you left some sort of message, a page or voicemail. They'll call back if they wanna talk or respond.

I always thought it made you look desperate/crazy if you called more than once. It kinda falls into that whole category of just showing up at someone's front door (another no-no in Damon's book unless your name is Gabrielle, Halle, Eva (Mendes, Longoria or Pigford) and you're wearing a trenchcoat with a suit of birth underneath it). That's crazy as well.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'll call people more than once for my job because that's what it requires of me. But on the personal side, it's hard to do. I feel awkward, like a bugaboo, and no one likes that status. Hell, it take enough for me to pick up the phone and call anybody these days anyway. I just let most of the people who want to talk to me, well, call me unless I have a sincere interest in you. Then I dial.

As silly as it seems, I think the "not calling game" a part of the relationship tango that men and women play that should be respected. Don't call me more than once, unless you happen to be that person who want to call me 100 times a day just cause I wanna hear your ringer. You're okay, whoever you are (since I don't exactly know who you are).

Otherwise, you'll be considered "Crazy. Deranged."
--------
So I went over my mom's this afternoon, and I pulled out some vinyl. That sound is still richer than any other. Screw the tape, the compact disc and digital music. The vinyl sound is where it's at.

I listened to the first record my brother and I ever owned, Michael Jackson's Bad album, which was bought for us as a joint Christmas present. I have it on my I-pod, but it's not the same.

Next up was Luther's (He doesn't need a last name at this point) Greatest Hits. I threw in a little Earth, Wind and Fire. Some Smokey, and it was officially a groove session. Oh yeah, my mother actually had some real Vic Damone. No joke. ...

It got me thinking back to how my Dad used to watch the games when he was still a bachelor (after my parents were divorced). Every Sunday afternoon, he turn down the television volume, put some Sade or Frankie Beverly on wax, and watch the Chiefs or whatever football game was on.

If you want to know where I got my love of soulful music, there it is. It's rooted in me.