This letter is addressed to all the children and grandchildren of the world.
Here I would like to ask you kindly to call your aging elders and settle in for a nice long talk, led primarily by the aforesaid elder. Think of dear grandma and grandpa, so isolated from the modern world in a house with no internet, cell phone, and/or driver's license, and think of the consequences of their horrible loneliness.
Otherwise said aging relative may pick up the phone and subject me, the humble captive call center slave, to a 45 minute diatribe on subjects including:
Their medical history all the way back to 1998.
The falling quality standards on all products from prescription drugs to their grandmother's sink plug.
Their home burglary from several years ago in which something was stolen although no one knows what.
Their son's financial problems.
Their post-traumatic stress disorder that is supposedly comparable to a Vietnam vet's.
The repossession of their house.
Their complete employment history as it relates to the downfall of the American economy.
...and the one time they used a computer and didn't like it.
After telling their life's story, they will then follow up with their fear of identity theft, the supposed multiple times someone has tried to steal their identity, and the statement, "I get so tired of being on the phone all day."
Now, I realize you have no more desire to be subjected to this verbal battery than I do, but as this person's offspring you may be able to respond with fond memories and familial love, whereas we slaves have only exasperation and impatience.
Think of all the other callers, desperately holding on the line, needing assistance and growing impatient, while this tragedy occurs in my eardrums.
I beg you, don't let them do this to us again.