Steeling Myself

Jerry really needs to stop calling me at 2am to talk about his building projects. It’s great that my brother is so enthused about things, and I’m probably going to want to take advantage of this building lark at some point in the not too distant future, but honestly… there’s a line. I mean, he’s essentially just talking to himself anyway, because I’m half asleep and quietly fuming while he goes on about some groundbreaking steel fabrication technique that I can barely get my head around. 

I guess I can only blame myself for having a landline. Jerry knows that I always have my mobile on airplane mode after 10pm, though. By extension, he should realise that I’m not up for being called in the wee hours. I could take the phone off the hook, I suppose – old school style. But I’m not entirely sure how landlines even work these days, or that this one even has a hook. Maybe it has a way to specifically block calls from brothers wanting to compare and contrast the various steel tubing suppliers Melbourne has to offer. 

That’s not a bad idea, actually. Imagine a phone setting that somehow predicts the content of a call, and then only rings if it’s something you want to hear about at a given time. Namely, almost anything other than a detailed listing of steel fabrication companies near Melbourne, which is what Jerry called me about last night. For the love of god, doesn’t the guy have a mate that’s on the same page that he can natter with about this stuff?

Maybe there’s a support group for people who love to talk about steel products. Imagine: steel beams, steel lintels, steel doodads and thingamabobs of many shapes and sizes, all up for discussion until the cows come home. That’d surely take the pressure of hapless family members who find themselves unwillingly roped into these conversations, with nothing to add and little in the way of real interest. 

I still want Jerry to rebuild my garage, though.