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10/16/2004: "Bell's Seasoning"

Once again, it is the telephone. My efforts to use it on my own behalf are in vain; one trip through the automated directory roundabout takes me to the wrong party, another trip with the help of a human guide lead me to a discouraging message. The Wickfields are on vacation, and Agnes took the week off. At home, the machine is a needy pet crying out for attention. Several solicitations. Then, in the evening, I hear from two people who tell me separately of a strange incident at the church. The alarms went off for no reason around five o'clock. Some kids went home from the after-school without their backpacks; one of the Sunday helpers was thwarted in her preparations and needs to get in on Saturday. We had an alarm go off in the other building, earlier in the week, when a volunteer decided to spray paint near an alarm head. For this one, I can imagine no such explanation.