Some Family Fun

My father does not call me on the telephone. Nor does he email, text, or in any other way contact me unless there is some malfunction in his otherwise sheltered life. Our conversations are limited to when we actually see each other in person, or his occasional shouts to me in the background while I'm chatting with my mother.

So when I heard his voice on the line as I was navigating rush hour traffic yesterday evening I knew I was in for a long-winded, nerve-wracking saga that would somehow involve a great deal of my time and patience. I choked back my immediate response of "just put Mom on the phone" because although I knew it would likely simplify whatever problem needed to be solved I felt strangely compelled to find out what could be confounding him enough to rouse him out of the daily routine and pick up the telephone. A fatal mistake on my part.

Dad: "So I'm having a little computer problem."
Me: (sighing inwardly) "Ok. What happened?"
Dad: "Oh, no. Nothing happened. You see, I was at work and they want me to go to this training course. In Madison. You know, Wisconsin. So I was talking to the regional manager- he's on vacation right now, but that doesn't really matter- and he said I should talk to the secretary about travel arrangements. So I talked to her, and she said that since the class is on Tuesday at 8 a.m., I'd have to book the flight for Monday. And then she told me to look up flights and see which one I thought I'd want, and I told her I want to be comfortable. So what do I do?"
Me: (inwardly trying to process this diatribe) "Ummm. So you need to book a flight? What's the computer problem?"
Dad: "Well you see, she didn't tell me how to book the flight and your mother refuses to help me." (I hear my mother's blood pressure going up, pulsing over the line)
Me: "So you need a website to go to? Try travelocity. You can look up the dates and different airlines."
Dad: (long pause) "Ok."
Me: "Ok, are you there?"
Dad: "Yes. No. Wait. No. I type slowly."
Me: "Ok, are you there now?"
Dad: "No. I'm not at the computer."
Me: (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) "Dad! Do it now, while I'm on the phone with you!"
Dad: "Why don't you call me back when you get in?"
Me: "Just do it! I'm not calling you back and going through this again. Are you at the website?"
Dad: "No. My manager's on vacation, you know? But he said he doesn't care if the flight is expensive, I just need to get there. For this class. And I want a direct flight. From Manchester."
Me: (clenching my jaw) "Yeah, you said that. Dad, go to travelocity dot com. There won't be direct flights from Manchester to Madison, you'd have to go out of Boston for that."
Dad: "How do you know? You don't know."
Me: "Yes. I do know. Remember when I worked there for a year?"
Dad: "Oh. Yeah. So I have to leave on Monday to get there for Tuesday?"
Me: "Dad!!!!!!! Seriously, you're going to give me a heart atta---"
Mom: (I hear much shoving, scraping, and swearing) "Ok, your father is gone. What do I do?"

Two minutes later my father had the information he needed, printed out, with different airlines, times, and prices. I had a stress fracture in my jaw from grinding my teeth and a throbbing headache. Seriously, it worries me that a 53 year old man is not only incapable of making travel arrangements for himself, but is also unable to follow directions. He's not a stupid man, he just has a severe lack of common sense. I blame either the "simple New Hampshire life" or adult onset ADD. Either way, it made me remember why I was ok with the twice yearly phone calls.