My brother, my friend
Yeah.. me too.
So the phone rings….
guy at other end with yooper twang: “Well, who is this?”
(you know, you called me, dude. I think you could guess better than I could..)
Me: “Dad?!! Is that you?”
Guy at other end: “No, this is Jon Peterson.. so how are you doing, Jena?”
So, we talk. He was a highschool teacher/ advisor of mine from when I was in school. He’s friends with my Dad. He sounds a lot like him.
So, my Mom says, “Your Dad NEVER calls when he’s in Newfoundland. If the phone rings, it’s NOT going to be Dad… you sound like that little bird in Are you my Mother? only searching for your dad..”
O.K. so I make a mental note: None of the yooper guys who call on the phone who say “Hullloooo Jeeeeeeeeena…” are ever going to be Dad. No one who calls and says “Hello DARE!” are going to be dad either.
I’m not going to embarrass my family by answering “Dad?” anymore. They’ll all think that after 40 years I can not distinguish my father’s voice from any old deer hunter in the woods.
So Sunday night rolls around. The phone rings, and I answer it.
Sure enough, there’s another yooper dude on the phone. I figured I could say anything except “Dad?”
So I answer: “Hello”
guy at other end: “Who am I talking to?”
me (formal like): this is Jena
guy at other end: “This is Dad!”
Me: “Is it really you? Are you calling from Newfoundland?”
Dad: “Yes, it’s me. Who did you think it was? Anyway, I got my moose! It’s a big one. over 2,000 pounds and 24 points….”
Me: “Wow! That’s amazing. I bet you want to talk to mom, eh?”
So, I hand her the phone and say,
“it’s NOT dad. He never calls from Newfoundland..”
And that is just one little snippet of my family and the fun we had there a few weeks ago..