Arrgh of the Day

A radio station I listen to occasionally has a contest every afternoon in which they give away something (concert tix, CDs, etc.). They play a lame, usually obscure song until someone stops it by calling in with the title and artist.

Today's prize was a set of Outlaws tickets. Not into lacrosse, so I hadn't planned to even try to call in.

But then, as soon as the opening notes of lameness sounded, I knew what it was.

"Hungry Eyes." Eric Carmen.

It's so terrible I had to try to stop it.

And I just can't not try to win.

(Side note: I love my BlackBerry. It does a lot of things really well. A notable exception is speed dialing. Faster to use an old dial phone.)

Despite my phone's deficiency in dialing, I managed to get through. I was so happy to hear the DJ say, "93.3, who's this?" "Robert," say I, happy to have the win in sight.

"Who?"

"Robert!"

"Who? Dude, I can't hear you!"

I can hear him crystal. "Robert! Robert!"

"OK, sorry man, movin' on..."

Now, they take these calls on a delay so they don't get into trouble with the FCC for someone's creative language. I had time to turn the radio up to hear...

"Bert!" (crackle crackle) "Bert!" (crackle) "Bert!"

"OK, sorry man..."

Perhaps BEING A PHONE isn't my phone's strongest point either.

Denied by technology.

Sigh...