This morning—again—I received a phone call from a woman I’ll call Leeann, because perhaps she or her company might prefer that I not use her actual name.

“Leeann” described a bargain cleaning offer for a surface in the home.

I decided that hanging up wasn’t serving as useful a purpose as pressing a key and telling an actual person that I wished to receive no more calls.

I didn’t catch the name of the company when eventually I spoke with that person, but this is what happened.

I said, “Hello, I’d like to be placed on your Do Not Call list.” And the person instantly hung up.

Now I ask you, if you were trying to make effective use of your advertising dollars, would you spend them in the manner I’ve just shared with you?

My father would sooner have taken to Main Street wearing a sandwich board lettered “Bradbury’s TV, Sales and Service, Where the Customer Is Always Right.”

Certainly, he would not have intruded upon anyone’s privacy by instructing his office manager Marie to start making her way through the Edmonds phone book calling strangers to pitch a special on roof-top antenna installation. (It might have helped a bit that her voice would not have been recorded. Also, lots of people needed work on those pesky roof-top antennas. Beside the point.)

My father, by the way, advertised in his local paper, the Edmonds Tribune-Review, now The Edmonds Beacon.

Of course, I got past feeling irritated at the recorded Leeann and at being hung up on when I asked for Do Not Call status. Life is too precious to dwell on little annoyances, right?

Then this afternoon, the phone rang.  A recorded female voice launched into a message for senior citizens, listing dangers inherent in being a senior, in being alone and falling.

She had a free offer for a device to summon help. I did not listen carefully to the recording.

There was something free being offered, at least initially. I’ve never heard of such a service offered free, though that would be grand.

Folks I know who subscribe to such a plan do purchase peace of mind for themselves and their families and—sometimes, eventually—a life-saving medic call at the push of a button.

I have nothing against such a product; this one might well be legitimate.  But it was one more recorded message I did not want.

I listened impatiently to the recording, hoping to speak to an actual person. Yes!  Press One for service.

Without preamble, the actual person asked briskly whether I wanted on the Do Not Call list or would like to speak to customer service.

In the background, I heard a babble of voices, presumably all talking to senior citizens about their well-being.

I wondered whether the voices came from Seattle or Chicago or perhaps Calcutta. It didn’t matter, really.

“I want on your Do Not Call List,” I said. We’ll see how that works out.