So Long, Answering Machine Days

Well, it's happened. Somehow, we seem to be getting lazier. As if microwave popcorn in front of American Idol with a remote in our hands weren't enough, now we've all gotten to the point that we no longer record our own answering machine messages. I guess that's an outdated thing to say. The proper terminology should be voicemail. Afterall, answering machines were so last century.

Remember back in the 80's when those giant boxes with plastic fake-wood fronts donned phone tables and desktops in our homes for the first time? A full sized cassette tape took up a 5 X 4 area on the top and we'd listen to the screech of fast rewind after hearing our messages. It was, at the time, the coolest thing there was. We as a nation were excited to have an answering machine. So excited, in fact, that we'd group together as families and author the most creative messages we could come up with. Often an accapella, off-key song was the answer - usually to the tune of Happy Birthday for some reason.

"You've reached the Jones' res-i-dence,
And it on-ly makes sense,
That you'd get our re-cord-ing,
Leave a message after this sentence ... BEEP!"

I assume it was the novelty that went along with a newfound toy that caused us to come up with group messages to greet our callers. Or perhaps it was just a simpler time when families actually did things like that together ... as a family. It could be that it was the horrible robotic voice alternative, "Please leave a mes - sage af - ter the tone" that made us want for something more; something special. Or, maybe it was a time in history when every other call wasn't associated with sales or surveys (or for many these days, collections). We weren't afraid to answer the phone when home and we were actually excited to greet missed calls with something welcoming.
Not any more.

Now adays, everyone has a cell phone and everyone uses voicemail. The recordings are digital. Gone are the days of a distorted, worn tape mishaping the words and encouraging an exciting game of "what did they say?" Now, everyone just looks at a digital readout, (or iPhone users get a computer screen), where they can see the caller's name, time of the message, length of the recording and decide whether they even want to listen. There is no more intrigue, no more surprise. It used to be like opening a Christmas present or a box of Cracker Jacks, but now we have the ability to kill the messenger before even hearing the message. That's how much we care about our callers.

I've recently noticed that nobody records thier own messages anymore. 99% of the numbers I call are answered by the same, abrupt-sounding lady's voice telling me that "555-1212 is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone. When finished recording your message, you may hang up or press one for more options." Did I dial the right number? Do I know if I've actually reached John Doe's telephone or just one of the 55-million other people who have the same dyke-sounding chick on their machine? Nope. Just gotta' leave the message and hope for the best. It's a gamble. Think about the poor sap who accidentally calls his mother's number thinking it's his girlfriend ... "BEEP! Hey baby, I was just thinking about what I'd like to do to you ..."

So I ask you, where has our creativity gone as a society? Where has the ingenuity and gumption gone that used to lather our taste buds in anticipation of a truly clever message? For me, I think the answer lies in the annoyance of most phone calls. It always seems to be someone who I don't want to talk to. You know, telemarketers, bankers, a spouse complaining. That last one slipped, I didn't mean to include that, of course.

If I had the guts to do it, I would make it a priority to have fun with my voicemail messages. I'd be honest and straight-forward in their delivery, not promising everyone that their call is important to me, but instead, telling them the God's honest truth ...

"Hi, you've reached my voicemail. Your call may or may not be very important to me, depending upon who you are and what you want. Therefore, leave me a message after the tone and if I call you back, you were important. If I don't, you may want to read into that. Thanks for calling! BEEP!"

Or ...

"Hi, this is my voicemail, which either means that I'm away from the phone or - more likely - I've looked at the number and determined that it is one that I don't want to answer right now. Think about it. It's a cell phone, for crying out loud. What are the chances that I really don't have it with me? BEEP!"

Any maybe ...

"This is my voicemail. What just happened was, I heard my phone ring and stopped my conversation long enough to look at the screen and see that it was you. Then, I rolled my eyes in a very exaggerated fashion, shook my head, commented to whomever I was speaking that it was "just you" and that "you could wait". I chuckled, then hit DISREGARD and went back to my life. Therefore, you can now choose to leave a message or not, depending on how all that makes you feel ... BEEP!"

Or, perhaps my favorite ...

"You've reached my phone. If you are a telemarketer, press END now. If you are a bill collector, press END now. If you are a disgruntled employee, press END now. If you are an attorney notifying me of my inclusion in the will of a long-lost and wealthy relative, or if you are Ed McMahon calling to inform me of my recent winning, please leave a message after the tone and I will call you back so fast your head will spin. All others, please press END now. Thank you. BEEP!"

But of course, there are those times that you don't want to be rude, only to drive your callers crazy. For that particular situation, may I recommend something along the lines of ...

"Thank you for calling. For English, press one now. Para español, pulse dos ... BEEP! YOU HAVE SELECTED PORTUGUESE: Muito obrigado pela chamada. Como posso ajudá-lo hoje? ... BEEP! YOU HAVE SELECTED HINDI: कॉल करने के लिए धन्यवाद . आज की मदद से आप कैसे कर सकते हैं ? ... BEEP! YOU HAVE SELECTED BULGARIAN: Благодарим ви за свикване. Как мога да ви помогне да днес? ..."



All the best,

WDL