Every day I desire to publish some nice little piece here, but unless it’s dictated by the inner voice, over which I have no control, it’s not worth the effort. This voice is silent sometimes for weeks on end—or more likely I haven’t learnt how to listen—and then it may utter a single phrase, as it did on Sunday: “Time is short, so don’t rush.” I made a note of it, marvelling at the paradox. Very fine, something to practise. I wanted to expand it into a short essay, but the inner voice remained tight-lipped. Then literature, that undying treasure, came to my rescue, with a perfect example, this from Benchley—Or Else! (1947, a compilation of his newspaper columns from the Thirties) :
One Minute, Please
About an hour ago the telephone bell rang. I answered it after a fashion.
A very brisk young woman said, “Wait a minute, please,” but she didn’t mean the “please”. What she obviously meant was just “Wait a minute!”
Now this is a thing that explicitly irks me. When I am called by a secretary who doesn’t tell me who is calling, but says “Wait a minute” and then goes off somewhere for five minutes, I hang up.
So I hung up. “They’ll call back,” I said to myself, and stood waiting by the instrument.
I tried to read the paper I had in my hand, but couldn’t concentrate. Each second, I could hear that bell ringing, only it didn’t ring. I sat down by the telephone. “There’s no sense in going back to the room,” I thought. “It’ll come any minute now.” But it didn’t.
* * * * * *
The sound of a telephone bell which ought to ring any minute, but doesn’t, is much worse than the actual thing. By this time I was definitely on edge. I was also in a frenzy to know who the caller had been.
Finally, I went into the other room. “That’ll bring them,” I said to myself, sagely. I know how those things work.
But I overestimated their perversity this time. Even when I sat down in a low easy chair, difficult to get out of, it didn’t work. As a final ruse, I lay down on a couch and pretended to be asleep. No bell.
I thought of calling Central and asking who had called me, but that would be weak. Anyway, Central couldn’t tell me. I thought of calling all my friends and asking them if they had just called, but that would be pretty futile on the face of it. I thought of putting the whole matter out of my mind, but that was impossible. I was obsessed.
* * * * * *
It has been an hour now and I have been pacing up and down the room gnawing at my nails. Obviously whoever it was is not going to call back. In a weak attempt to restore my peace of mind I am using this space as a
PERSONAL COLUMN
At five-thirty on the afternoon of Tuesday, June 25, who called me on the telephone?
Perhaps eighty years have passed since Robert Benchley wrote that. Apart from the shape of the telephone, has very much changed? His article is exactly the kind of thing I would have wished to write, and meant it too. Would we all have acted like this? Would you?
Time is short, so let me not rush. (Whoops? Is that the time …?)
15 thoughts on “One Minute, Please”
a wayfarer’s notes 
There’s another piece by Benchley I’d love to republish here–it being out of copyright by now–called “Can We Believe Our Eyes?”. It might be a little long, but this gives a flavour:“In fact, according to scientists, if your eyes tell you that a thing is so, it is a very good reason for believing the opposite.“This will eventually make for a lot of trouble in the world.”Thus spake Benchley the prophet.
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What he should have done is gone into the bathroom for any reason. That would have made them call back immediately.Now it seems, among the other august names you have mentioned here, I’m going to have to gather some Benchley to read. I like his style.
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I love this, Vincent! I’ve downloaded two of his collections free to my Kindle. I like his style very much too. I go through a similar but opposite occurrence at work. If I put a call through to my boss and it ends up being a telemarketer, he will act interested and then ask if they can hold and he waits until they get the hint. One person stayed on a rather long time. Another called back. As you’ve shown, Benchley has a knack for making what is mundane into something very interesting. That’s why I think I enjoy the essay as a vehicle—free form of course—it provides a backdrop to explore and go with a line of thinking to end up somewhere, sometimes with direction, sometimes direction taking form of itself. I am listening to an audio right now called The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes. I included a link for the Kindle book if you’d like to have a look. I thought of you because of the memory theme and the setting and maybe because the narrator is British. You may have already come across it, maybe even mentioned the author. I can’t recall. It also makes me think of the type of work you might write in your own style of course. http://www.amazon.com/Sense-Ending-Borzoi-Books-ebook/dp/B004YWKKEG/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2
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May the Saxon version of Yule; give you courage and joy.
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I’m more familiar with Peter Benchley.
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sorry for not following your post properly. i jumped directly to the piece and was left wondering, Vincent! is that you??but then your honesty broke my heart in the end
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Ah Ghetu, it’s a wonderful story I could never write, a model to future generations in its verbal perfection, its timing. Material for one of today’s stand-up comedians.Rev, I’m glad you’re going to read Benchley. Your own style is pretty good too. You are so prolific that I imagine you dash your blog pieces off rather quickly. With more work they could be honed to perfection. Do you read much P.G. Wodehouse? Now there is a stylist!
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Ah yes, Fowl Ideas, the author of Jaws, grandson of Robert B.
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Rebb, I’ve never got on with Julian Barnes. I read everything I can get hold of by Martin Amis, his contemporary. I don’t think I’ve mentioned Barnes before.It’s funny, I’ve had the Kindle for nearly a year and I’ve bought loads of hard-back books–secondhand through Amazon. I find it too expensive to buy Kindle books, but I copy lots of things to it myself: books (e.g. from Gutenberg) or articles & blog posts. And I use it most often in bed, especially its dictionary, or to access the Web!But I’d like to hear about Barnes’ book from you, with a view to perhaps ordering it from the library. (As a senior citizen I can order books free from the County Library. Sometimes I ask for a new book and it goes before their committee. Every time I’ve suggested a book so far they’ve bought it.)
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And may the Christian version of Christmas bring you peace and joy, Davoh! I’m not one myself as you know, but they were on to a good thing when they invented Christmas (even though the Nordic tribes got there first with Yule).
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I don’t know if my posts would be better by taking more time or if I would edit them to death. This way I get home and take my night meds and dash something off before I fall asleep on the keyboard then post it without looking back. Sometimes that backfires on me. I’d like to think I’m a bit of Dave Barry and a bit of Hunter Thompson with a dash of Robert Heinlein and Terry Pratchett. It might be good to add some Benchley and Wodehouse to the mix and see what happens.
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Those guys had to do it for money, Rev, to bring home the bacon. You are in the fortunate position of being able to please yourself in the matter of writing. It pleases your readers too. So everyone wins. And it didn’t handicap you in becoming a Sergeant.
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Vincent, It does get expensive buying Kindle books. I’ve turned to the library more, but I also try to take advantage of free Kindle books while they are free for a short time. I’ve enjoyed a few that way. Your own library continues to grow! When I’m done listening to the book, II will probably post a reaction blog. I like it so far. There are places I wanted to underline but you can’t very well do that on an audio. That’s great about your library. I remember one of your blogs on an Amis book you were reading. I only recall that he felt a bit much for me at the time. I think that’s good reason to find something of his that is short and dive in. I like trying to read books sometimes that I may not tend to gravitate towards.
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Good morning friend. Just stopping by and enjoying your work here. Congratulations on making your life work for you one more year. We are still here. Thanks for your energy and wonderful sense of humor. Cheers to the New Year. N.
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Thank you, my dear Nancy, for your presence in words which convey so much. We will probably never meet, but I feel your enriching presence, even by this tenuous connection.