Although I fully acknowledge the existence of unique and special bonds (some would even call them “chains”) between mothers and daughters, I happen to have a mother who bears some enjoyable — and worrying — similarities to Amy Borkowsky’s mother in “Amy’s Answering Machine: Messages from Mom.”
I frequently return home after work or an evening out to find drawn-out messages from my mother recorded in loving faithfulness by my answering machine. Rather than simply informing me that she called and would like to talk, my mother insists on leaving the entire table of contents of what she wants to talk about. I used to erroneously think that actual follow-up conversations were unnecessary since my mother had gone to the trouble of sharing exactly what she wanted to say to me on my answering machine! And now that my parents have become more Internet and e-mail savvy than I am, I am treated to one-way conversations both via e-mail and the phone lines. And don’t even ask what life is like now that I have a cell phone.
In her book, Borkowsky, an advertising executive and comedian, says her mother views the phone line as “an umbilical cord.” The elder Borkowsky seems to be a serial phone caller, offering her daughter unnecessary advice and commentary that ranges from the ridiculous to the…well, biological.
Quote: “Hi, Amila. It’s me, honey. If you haven’t already left to go to the motor vehicle bureau, keep in mind that the wait is very long. So before you get in line, you may wanna empty your bladder. All right, honey, that’s all for now. Bye-bye.”
This message alone is sufficient to evoke the image of a stereotypical Jewish mother (she does, in fact, live in the Bronx) who peppers her phrases with Yiddish expressions and intonation. The author is blessed with an exquisite ear for presenting the perfectly phrased messages, ones that communicate volumes in just a few words. This book is actually the written version of a CD that she released through the Internet. In it, Borkowsky shares her mother’s actual messages, which she has been recording for the past 10 years.
The benefit of reading these messages is that Amy has the opportunity to offer her own wry commentary afterwards. Following her mother’s bathroom advice, Amy writes, “What gets me, first of all, is that she thinks I wouldn’t already know there’d be a wait at the DMV — as if I’m under the impression that the DMV in Manhattan gives instant service. Like maybe I’m figuring I’ll go over there and the smiling DMV clerk will meet me at the door: ‘Here’s your license, Ma’am, and remember: DMV stands for Done in Moment’s Visit.'”
Amy’s mother also is compelled to pass along detailed weather reports: “Amila? I hope you’re on your way home. I just heard on the weather, there’s a big storm headed for New York and they’re expecting four to six inches in the city, with accumulations of up to a foot in the outlying areas. So if I were you, I wouldn’t go shlepping to any outlying areas…so if you have to go out, make sure you bundle up.”
This is a light-hearted little book, but occasionally Amy throws in some messages that strike a little too close to home. Several illustrate that well-meaning mothers sometimes can unintentionally hurt their children.
One year, her mother left the following birthday wish on Amy’s machine: “Happy birthday to you/ happy birthday to you/ happy birthday dear Amila/ happy birthday to you./ How old are you now?/ How old are you now?/ Better hurry and find a husband/ before your ovaries shut down.”
Also on the subject of female concerns, her mother left one message that warned, “I meant to tell you, so you don’t set off the metal detector at the airport, make sure that when you leave the house, you don’t wear an underwire bra…”
Generally, this is a funny book and a quick read. It is definitely worthwhile as a gift book or for some light bathroom reading. And to conclude on that note, Amy’s mother left one message about the dangers of not drinking enough water: “Remember, honey, you’re not a camel. They say that passing a (kidney) stone feels like you’re giving birth. And if you’re gonna go through all that, I’d like to end up with something that can call me Grandma. Okay, honey, bye-bye.”