My mother’s “calling out” became a thorn in my side, one that my mother never grew out of. It began from a second story garden apartment in Queens,(where I grew up), and I was called up for a variety of things: “D-I-N-N-E-R! P-H-O-N-E-C-A-L-L!”, “E-D S-U-L-L-I-V-A-N I-S O-N!” As I grew older, these “calling outs” of my mother’s, escalated to the next level, and she brought them with her into various department and book stores. Not having her trusty window with her, my mother would invariably wonder off to look at something, lose me in the process, and then page me. When I turned 43 (gulp!) I decided that I’d had enough! So ….. On A recent trip to K-mart, wondering through the plant isle, I realized that I was in a one way conversation with myself. My mother had done it again. Poof! she had disappeared. I knew in a manner of 5 minutes or so, my name would be announced, and ALL of K-Mart would hear it. I ran over to the toy department, and picked up an item. As I heard my name, I rushed over to the nearest cashier, and made my purchase. I took my mother’s arm, and escorted her outside, where I presented her with own megaphone. She laughed. After a recent trip to Macy’s with my son, I called my mother on the phone and asked: “Remember that megaphone I bought you in K-mart? Could I borrow it?” My mother laughed.

Where I grew up in Queens we did the same thing. The building I lived in was one of a group which formed a circle around a courtyard. They were only three stories high (they seemed like skyscrapers), and it was commonplace to call up to mom to throw down some ice cream money or a ball and glove or just call up to friends either to get them to come down and play or just to have a conversation, window to pavement. Moms also used to call to their kids to come up for dinner. I don’t remember anyone ever complaining! Everyone did it.