Desert Messenger

16 www.DesertMessenger.com August 9, 2017 "Yeah?!" That was how he answered the phone. Why is it I suddenly felt like hanging up on him? "What do you need?" he said when I didn't respond. Unlike the good old days when a call- er had no idea who was calling them I knew that he knew it was me. So hang- ing up on him wasn't an option. "Uh, can you talk?" I muttered something along those lines or possibly something else equally as annoying to a guy who, I later found out, had just extricated himself from the bowels of the vehicle he was working on in time to run over to the workbench and grab the phone before he missed the call. "I'm trying to get some work done," he said. "What do you want?" By this time, I had completely forgot- ten what I wanted. Well at least what I had originally wanted when I called him. I knew without a doubt that what I now wanted was to not only hang the phone up on him but to slam it down in the cradle. Except the most satisfaction you can get with hanging up on someone now is to press the end button really hard. Not nearly as effective as slamming a handset down. So there I sat in my office, trying to think of something invaluable to tell him so I didn't have to actually say that I couldn't remember what I called for. In the old days when he worked in a garage connected to the home office I could just stroll through the garage door, see that it wasn't a good time to talk, and stroll right back to my desk. Not so nowadays. His shop was far enough away that we had to resort to phone calls to communicate. The funny thing about the phone lines. They work well when its an in- coming call to the office from the shop. They are answered pleasantly ev- ery time. Even when the calls come at the rate of 2-4 an hour. Important requests come through like, "I left my phone book on my desk up there, can you look a number up for me?" or "I forgot the parts on the back porch for this project, are you coming down this way soon?" Oh, here's a re- ally good one. "We're back from riding motorcycles, can you bring down some Mountain Dew and banana bread?" Since I'm not capable of shrugging off a major indiscretion such as be- ing spoken to rudely on the telephone I couldn't just drop it and get back to work. I felt the need to rant and rave to myself about how I am so nice that I would never answer the phone like that. I told myself that even if he calls three times in a row, every time I an- swer the phone politely and help with whatever he needs. I told myself that I wouldn't soon forget this improper treatment. I told myself so many things about that two minute phone call that I wasted 30 minutes. And that's when it oc- curred to me. Probably the very sight of my number on Caller ID strikes fear in his heart. How many minutes is he go- ing to have to listen to me rant and rave or give him the complete and lengthy history of the reason I called? Unlike his calls to me: Him: "Can you get me this, that or the other thing?" Me: "Yes." Him: "Thanks. Good-bye." Under a minute most calls. Compared to my calls: "Me: You know I was sitting at my desk working on the subscription renew- als because I'm way behind on getting those done and I haven't had any time to work on them because of how hectic our schedule has been and blah blah blah, for probably at least five min- utes. Him: Uh... Me: Oh and actually that's not really why I called at all but the reason was . . . blah blah blah blah, another five minutes. Him: Uh . . . Me: Well, you know what? I think I'll just do blah blah blah. Him: Ok. Me: So how is everything going down there? And now I'm understand- ing why on a busy day of working on a frustrating project the ringing phone, that hopefully is the motor- cycle shop calling to say they have located the hard-to-find part, turns out to be a wife with too much to say can be slightly annoying. Did I say slightly? That may be an un- derstatement. I'm realizing that when my number shows up on the Caller ID it's a wonder he answers the phone at all. Sherri Kukla is the editor and co-publisher of S&S Off Road Magazine. She along with her husband, the guy-in-the-garage, are also the founders and directors of Thunder- ing Trails off road camp for inner city kids in Southern California. She can be reached at ssormag@gmail.com or www.ssorm.com Sherri's Turn In Memoriam Joanne H. Robinson Joanne H. Robinson, 86, of Quartzsite, Arizona, died on July 8, 2017, at her home in Quartzsite, with her grand- niece, Shannon Nelson, at her side. Joanne Joyce Hagen was born March 29, 1931, to Oscar and Dora Hagen (Ger- manson) of Clintonville, Wisconsin. She was named Katherine Marie Hagen after her two grandmoth- ers. Her sister, Jeanne, who was eight years old at the time, did not like the name. So, unbeknownst to their mother, Jeanne called the attending physician, Dr. Murphy, and had the name changed to Joanne Joyce. What a surprise when the Hagens received the birth certificate in the mail!!! It was said that Joanne could sing before she could talk, and sing she did. When Joanne was twelve years old, she became the organist at the Methodist Church in Clintonville. Prior to that time, she sang at the Merchandise Mart in Chicago, for the Morris B. Sachs Amateur Hour. Following that perfor- mance, she was invited back to sing at the Chicago Civic Opera House for a Soldiers' Benefit Show. After High School graduation in 1948, Joanne headed for the "big city" of Mil- waukee and sang every Sunday for a year on TV Varieties, WTMJ-TV. Then on to Washington D.C., where she was employed by the Government at the Pentagon. Her adventures then took her to New York City, where she contin- ued her voice studies while working at CalTex Oil Company on Fifth Avenue. Her dad told her that a rolling stone gathers no moss, but that didn't stop Joanne. She moved to beautiful Con- necticut, where she sang with the Hart- ford Symphony Orchestra. While in Connecticut, she also worked for Pratt & Whitney and United Aircraft. After a brief return to Clintonville, Joanne moved to sunny California, where she met and married Bruce Robinson, on January 2, 1976, at the Little Glass Church in Westchester, California. After living at the beach when it was still "young", and before the influx of people flowed in faster than the waves from the ocean, Joanne and Bruce re- tired from Howard Hughes' Aircraft Company in 1986, and moved to a beautiful ranch in Hart Flat, Keene, California. What a wonderful experi- ence with people who also appreciated the beauty and the kind of simple living it offered, and, of course, horses, goats, mules, cats, doggies, etc. It was a life and a place that was exceptional and incomparable. After eleven years at the ranch, they realized they would soon have to give in to the fact that a smaller place was in order. So, in their RV travels, they found Quartzsite, Arizona. They sold the ranch and made Quartzsite their home. Prior to leaving the ranch, Joanne was able, after much advertising and searching, to find and meet her German rel- atives in Schleswig, New Hol- stein, Germany and in Canada. This was truly an event. Bruce preceded her in death on May 16, 2005. Joanne was also preceded in death by her parents, sister Jeanne, and brother-in-law, Warren Snider. Joanne is survived by a niece, Mary Bratton, of Los Angeles, California, nephews John Snider of Waupaca, Wisconsin, and Tom Snider of Winneconne, Wisconsin, as well as grandnieces, grandnephews and many cousins in the United States, Canada and Germany. In addition to her physical travels, Joanne traveled spiritually through- out her life. She was raised as a United Methodist, re-baptized as one of Jeho- vah's Witnesses in 1997, and spent her last few years happily building a per- sonal relationship with her Lord. She lived as He would have her live – always caring – always sharing – always loving, and deeply loved by many. In her own words, "oh, the memories, the happy ones and even the sad ones; how I look forward to the day when things will be even more wonderful be- cause, as we learned and sang when we were children, the Bible tells us so". Joanne has requested that after she leaves this world, when you remember her, don't put any flowers on her grave. Just give some food and water to a stray animal and treat it with tenderness and love. Also, in lieu of flowers, donations should be sent to an animal charity/shel- ter of your own choosing. Editor's note: This 2nd obituary was submit- ted by family. The obituary that ran in July edition was personally submitted to Desert Messenger in November by Joanne Robinson.

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