a reference to a Twilight Zone episode that shows just how old and doddering I am. In the 1964 episode, “Night Call,” an old lady receives a telephone call from a mysterious, anonymous man. The phone company traces the call to a downed telephone line that rests on the grave of her long-dead fiancé who died when she lost control of the car she was driving a week before they were to be married.
Now that’s what I call cold feet – in more ways than one.
Anyway, many of you have noticed that the “According to Steve” column I wrote for Southern Living for many years has suddenly disappeared. A number of readers think maybe it’s because I’m dead, or worse, that I’ve been given my own reality show on TV. (That’s one show the makers of Ambien wouldn’t pay to sponsor. You’d sleep right through the ad.)
Well, I’m not dead nor is this message being transmitted through a
downed high-speed line resting on a crypt. The venue for my vitally
important and incisive commentary has simply switched to the world wide
web, where I can hopefully lead even more people to spiritual
enlightenment, horticultural happiness, and healthier gums.
Check back each week to see new postings that will bring you
laughter and what appears to be knowledge. Have a comment, question, or
insult regarding this blog? I would say drop me a line, but given the
present circumstances, you might get the wrong idea. So just shoot me
an email to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Is it OK if I answer in the middle of the night? It’s always scarier that way. Doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo….