Modern Living: Creative Answering

“Just leave a name and number that I can call,

Or a message or anything at all.

There ain ‘t no frustration

Like no conversation . . . Ba da dah!”

That recorded message, backed by a bluesy jive, greets anyone who phones Boston-based Singer Ralph Graham when he is not at home. A call to the Manhattan apartment of Warren Farrell, a spokesman for the men’s liberation movement, evokes the answer: “Hi, this is Warren and Ursie’s answering machine. They are out right now and I’m kind of lonely. Would you let your voice fall on my tape?” Country Religious Singer Kenneth Medema uses fully orchestrated background tracks from his recordings with lyrics modified to regale callers.

Tiger Snarls. Not content with the routine (“Jim Jones is not at home. At the signal, please leave your name, number and message. Beep”), increasing numbers of Americans are loading their telephone answering devices with creative and amusing greetings, often in verse and music. Electronic answering has become not only a fad but something of an art form.

Spokane, Wash., callers with clogged drains are met with a message from Reginald the plumber: “If you have a plumbing problem, please write down the nature of your problem and mail it to me. If this is an emergency, write ‘Rush’ on the letter. All letters will be judged on the basis of neatness and originality.” Manhattan Psychiatrist Edward Hornick’s electronic surrogate greets the caller with “Shrink, Inc.” Some of the more innovative answering-machine users are massage parlors and “rap” studios. In its recorded message the Blue Orchid Studio of Kansas City, Mo., gets right to the point. “Hi,” says a seductive, girlish voice. “Would you be interested in my warm, nude body?” One New York City resident, worried by a rash of break-ins in his neighborhood, finally added the following warning to his automatic phone greeting: “If you’re a burglar and think that you can come over while I’m out, listen to this: [recorded tiger snarls and lion roars].”

It sometimes does not pay to be too clever with answering devices. Boston Piano Player Randy Klein, who backs up Singer Graham, was moved to record a more conventional greeting after his ragtime ditty began drawing 300 calls per day. Graham is also deluged with calls. “People call from New York just to listen,” he says. “It genuinely gives them joy.” Author Robert Rimmer’s (Thursday, My Love) phone rang almost continuously when word got around that his machine read back a passage from his book.

For those who are less creative, Pianist Klein is setting up a company to sell prerecorded answering tapes that will respond to callers with anything from no-nonsense direct greetings to 16-track orchestrated production numbers with voiceovers. Says Klein: “Answering machines make people uptight. Maybe our tapes will make life a little easier for them.”