Jeremy Hillary Boob, Ph.D.

I rang the henry ford Museum one day in late July of 2007, and asked whether they have any Amphicars.

The operator who answered hung up on me after I’d been on hold about 90 seconds.

I called back. She didn’t apologize for ringing off and transferred my call to someone who hadn’t a clue.

The clueless one put someone else on the line after a short wait.

“You’re looking for a what?” he said when I asked whether they have an Amphicar. “A [insert thoroughly misheard non-word]?”

[Very slowly] “Am-phi-car. A-M-P-H-I. It’s amphibious.”

Silence. I looked over at mom, who looked suitably horrified. I smiled at her and said into the phone, “You can drive it into the water.”

“Oh! Oh! Oh, no. Oh, no. I’ve been here nine years and I’ve never seen anything like that; nothing that’s amphibious.”

“‘K! Thank you!” I said as I hung up, and looked at my still-horrified-looking mom. “You only heard half the conversation.”

“I know,” she told me. “You have my sympathy.”

Amphi-related linkage:

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