We are a family of political junkies. As well as American Idol junkies. Good thing we have our intellectual side, isn't it?
Anyway, I am a regular subscriber to National Review, the publication started by William F. Buckley many years ago. As a matter of fact, I believe he began NR in 1963, when I was two years old. Since WFB started it, I'm sure you can tell it's a conservative magazine. Anyway, I had never heard of it until about a year ago when it magically started to appear in my mailbox every two weeks. Seriously, I never ordered it. Ben said he hadn't either, but was thrilled to get it. I thought maybe it was a marketing gimmick, and that it would end after a few editions. But here we are, a year later, and still they come like clockwork. To my name and address.
Then last week I got a renewal form telling me my subscription was about to run out and would I like to renew for another year. So I decided to call them and ask how the first one started. I did and here's the conversation I had with the lovely, conservative young lady on the other end of the line:
Me: I'm trying to find out how the first subscription started, because, although I love your magazine, I never ordered it.
Lovely Conservative Young Lady: Well, let me just look up your account here.
LCYL: I looks like this was a gift subscription.
Me: Really? Does it say who it was from?
LCYL: Yes, it's from a Fernando Villar, in California.
Me: I have never heard that name in my entire life. I have no idea who that is.
I asked her to spell the last name, I asked for more information (none was available), I repeated several times that I had absolutely no concept of who this person was nor how he knew my name and address. Isn't that the strangest thing?
So hey, if you are Fernando Villar, thank you so much. I've really enjoyed my gift. And if you know Fernando, please send my appreciation along.
Be thankful ~