Message for Clifford: Phone Home

Today I returned home from work to find yet another message for Clifford Erikson on my answering machine. Apparently Clifford (“Cliff” to his friends) owned my phone number before Verizon recycled it. Wherever you are, Clifford, I know that your auto insurance payment is overdue, as is your DVD of “A Shark’s Tale.” I’ve also spoken with your father, who has your incorrect number on speed dial. The old man misses you, Cliff.

I wonder what you’ve been up to since September -- besides skipping out on bills and ignoring immediate family. Maybe you got fed up with the 9-to-5 and bought a few lobster traps. Maybe while I stare at a computer screen all day, you lovingly plunge your traps into the Atlantic, then you sit back and read Hemingway. You named your beat-up boat “Faithful Dave,” after Dave’s Super Duper where you used to buy beer.

Or you could be on the lam. You owe an exorbitant amount of money to a loan shark named Doug. Your friends bought you a copy of “A Shark’s Tale” for a laugh. You didn’t think it was funny. At this moment, you’re using your fake ID to purchase tequila in Mexico. You crossed the border seven months ago, and you’ve been craving Philly cheese-steak ever since.

I hate to say it, Clifford, but I guess you could be dead. If that’s the case, I hope Blockbuster dropped the late fees. It seems you never should have left Honesdale for the big city. Why would you give up walking down Church Street every morning, seeing that friendly old couple with the big Saint Bernard? What NYC brunch could be better than griddle cakes and o.j. at Maple City Café? Did you hesitate while packing your bags? Did you consider the way Honesdale looks in December, when the Wayne County Arts Alliance puts blinking reindeer on the streetlights? The Big Apple has a bitter aftertaste, Clifford. I wish you’d stuck with farmer's market kielbasa.

Eventually, your family will stop calling me. The bill collectors will give up. One day, you’ll be completely off the hook. When that day comes, I hope you’ll return for a visit. If it’s not too much to ask, you might buy me a drink at the Limerick. I’d like to know what you’ve been up to. Just one Smirnoff, Cliff. I've been waiting, and really -- it's the least you can do.