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The following is a true story, only slightly embellished. Originally written 14 April 2016, on the day I first did this. I have also tried this routine a couple of other times on IRS scam calls, with less success. Those were the days. Maybe next time I’ll get through verse five.
“Hello. I am calling to you from Windows Technical Department. How are you?
“Fine, thanks.”
“That is good to me to hear. I am calling to you to let you know that Windows Technical Department have been receiving warning messages from your computer.”
“Oh, dear. Can you help?”
“Yes, we can help to you. That is why we are calling to you. Is your computer on?”
“Yes, of course. I use it to write poetry. Do you?”
“Are you in front of your computer?”
“No, not right now. Do I need to be?”
“Yes, Windows Technical Department needs to help you to fix your computers.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“On your keyboard, what button do you see at the bottom-left corner? Do you see C, T, R, and L?”
“Yes.”
“That is the Ctrl key. Do you see that?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“And what key is next to it?”
“The Windows key.”
“That is good to me to hear. I need you to press that key and letter R.”
“What for?”
“Can you press Ctrl key and letter R both at same time?”
“Why? I’d rather be writing a poem.”
“Are you in front of your computer? We need to fix the warning messages . . .”
“Why are you asking me to press Ctrl and R?”
“I am calling to you from Windows Technical Department. We have been receiving warning messages from your computer . . .”
“Yes, you told me that. Why should I press those buttons?”
“We are trying to help you to fix your computer.”
“Yes, I know, but what will pressing Ctrl and R do? I would like to know first.”
“Is your computer on?”
“Yes, I already said so.”
“Are you in front of your computer?”
“No. . . . Did you know it’s National Poetry Month?”
“I need you to be in front of your computer, so we can fix . . .”
“We could celebrate by my reading poems to you. Could I read a poem to you?”
“Windows Technical Department cannot fix your computer with a pole.”
“No, no. I want to read some poems to you. I’d like to start with Longfellow’s ‘The Song of Hiawatha.’ Do you know that poem?”
“No. Are you in front . . .”
“It’s one of my favourites. Can I read it to you?”
(silence)
“Okay.”
“Wonderful. This is the first verse. There are many verses, and I love them all. I’m glad I can read them to you. Here we go:”
Should you ask me, whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest
With the dew and damp of meadows,
With the curling smoke of wigwams,
With the rushing of great rivers,
With their frequent repetitions,
And their wild reverberations
As of thunder in the mountains?
“That’s the first verse. I could read it again. Or would you like me to sing it this time? I would love to sing it to you. I can do operatic voices, or I can sound like a cowboy. Or how about a redneck?”
“No.”
“Okay, no problem. I’ll just read the second verse.”
I should answer, I should tell you,
“From the forests and the prairies,
From the great lakes of the Northland,
From the land of the Ojibways,
From the land of the Dacotahs,
From the mountains, moors, and fen-lands
Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
Feeds among the reeds and rushes.
I repeat them as I heard them
From the lips of Nawadaha,
The musician, the sweet singer.”
“Do you know Longfellow?”
“No, I know other fellows at Windows Technical Department.”
“Thank you so much for listening. Are you enjoying this? . . . Maybe we could discuss what Longfellow’s major themes might be, but we can get to that later. Let me read the third verse to you now . . .”
“Ahhh . . .”
“Here we go:”
Should you ask where Nawadaha
Found these songs so wild and wayward,
Found these legends and traditions,
I should answer, I should tell you,
“In the bird’s-nests of the forest,
In the lodges of the beaver,
In the hoof-prints of the bison,
In the eyry of the eagle!”
“We could do this again next week, if you like. It’ll be National Poetry Month all month. I’m glad you can listen to me reading poetry to you. Isn’t it a nice way to celebrate? Tell, me, do you write poetry?”
(silence)
“Never mind, let me read the next verse to you. This is the fourth verse. Are you ready?”
“All the wild-fowl sang them to him,
In the moorlands and the fen-lands,
In the melancholy marshes;
Chetowaik, the plover, sang them,
Mahng, the loon, the wild-goose, Wawa,
The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
And the grouse, the Mushkodasa!”
“That’s a short verse, but it’s great stuff, isn’t it? I love celebrating National Poetry Month with you. We can fix my computer after I finish reading the poem, unless you want more poems. Are you excited for the fifth verse?”
(click)
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