I got a message from Omaha Steaks at 9:08 AM. I don’t answer the phone that early, both because anyone who knows me doesn’t call me at 9:08 AM and nobody ever calls for me on the home line. Later, I check the messages, and I guess Dad had sent me some Omaha Steaks for Christmas. Damn skipper of him. Trouble was, he sent it to the wrong address. The nice people that live there now called Omaha Steaks and told them of the error (also damn skipper of them…we’d never have known the difference if they hadn’t), so they were calling to get my real address. The address Dad sent the things to? The house we lived in for 8 years after I was born. The house we moved out of, settling in another house for four years until he and Ma separated. The house we moved out of in 1990.
