Introduction

Amy's Answering Machine
by Amy Borkowsky

Does your mother call you in a panic whenever there's a storm warning for your area? Does she act as though it's her duty to alert you to every health story on the news? Have you ever been briefly out of touch with your mother only to find she's phoned everyone short of the National Guard to track you down -- or, just maybe, are you that mother?

Take comfort in knowing you're not alone, as Amy Borkowsky shares more than a decade's worth of maddening phone messages from her hilariously overprotective mom. Based on the hit CD of the same name, Amy's Answering Machine features actual messages in which Amy's mom warns her not to wear a red bathrobe because a friend's grandson "said that red is a gang color"... advises her not to get a cat because "what if you finally found a nice guy and he was allergic?"... cautions her not to wear crepe-soled shoes because "they were just saying on the news that if you're ever in a plane crash, crepe is no good if you have to go down the slide."

Amy also reveals the stories behind the messages and shares calls not available on CD, each one brimming with the worry and annoying comments only a loving mother could dish out.

The same warnings and suggestions that had Amy cringing are sure to have you doubled over with laughter. But before you turn the page, take some advice from Amy's mom: Make sure you have plenty of reading light, because squinting causes crow's feet.

A lot of people who are driven to the point of insanity report hearing voices — voices commanding them to stalk, maim, or even kill.

Then there are people like you and me. We also hear voices that leave us at the brink of our sanity, only these voices are commanding us to zip up our jackets or eat enough roughage.

The voices we hear don't come from God but from someone much more powerful.

Our mothers.

The only difference between any other adult who's being driven nuts by her mother and me is that I just happened to have saved my mother's voice on the microcassettes from my answering machine.

In fact, I've been saving almost all my answering machine messages for well over a decade.

Recently, I released a CD of my mother's messages through my Website at sendamy.com. Judging by the flood of email I've been getting, I'm not alone in having a mother who uses the phone lines to stay way too connected — a mother who offers constant advice on what to eat, how to dress, and who to date.

It doesn't help that the phone companies have been fighting a rate war, resulting in long-distance charges as low as five cents a minute and local calling plans with unlimited usage. As in any war, who suffers the most? It's the children — people like you and me whose mothers now have nothing holding them back whenever The Urge to Call strikes.

With all the advances in telecommunications — from answering machines that our mothers "commandeer" to cell phones that let them track us wherever we go — it's not Big Brother watching over us.

It's Big Mother.

So allow me to take you on a journey to the land of Overprotection, as I share messages from a mother who seems to think the phone cord is an umbilical cord.

You'll notice that I make liberal use of phrases such as "I love my mother, but," "As much as we love our parents," and "I know my mother means well, but." Basically, these are road signs indicating Sharp Criticism Ahead, and I use them because I don't want to feel guilty.

And even though it's hard to remember sometimes, I use these phrases because they're true. I do know how lucky I am to have a mother who cares so much. Friends who've lost their mothers tell me how difficult it is when they realize that they'll never again find another person so totally focused on their well-being.

The most devoted friend, lover, or even husband would never call you in a panic to warn you of the dangers of nylon-crotched panties. And they wouldn't dream of advising you to alternate which side you wear your purse on so your shoulders don't get uneven.

As you flip through this book, smiling and maybe even laughing your tuchas off at my existence under Mom's Rule, a few questions may come up.

First, you may wonder why my mother calls me "Amila" (pronounced AY-muh-luh) when my name is actually Amy. The answer is that, as a classic Jewish mother, my mom follows the tradition of adding an "ila" to my name as a term of endearment. (This is probably why you rarely hear of a Jewish girl named something like "Lola" — her mother would then have to call her Lola-ila, which doesn't roll very smoothly off the tongue.) You'll also find that my mother sometimes calls me "mamascheinz," which literally translates to "sweet mother" but can be used affectionately for anyone female, much as Spanish-speaking people might use "mamacita." And here and there, my mother uses some other Yiddish phrases, which are explained in the glossary at the end of this book.

At some point you may also wonder, "Where is Amy while her mother's calling and chatting up a storm with her machine? Is she sitting there screening or what?"

The answer is "or what."

For the past several years, my answering machine has had a light on but nobody home, due mostly to my insane hours as a creative director at a New York ad agency. On top of that, I began doing stand-up comedy, which is how Amy's Answering Machine came about.

When I first played my mother's messages on stage and saw how much audiences loved her (Why is it always easier to see the humor in someone else's mother?), I decided to produce my own CD and market it through my Website.

Then, when the success of the CD showed just how many people related to and were entertained by my struggles with Mom, I was offered the opportunity to write this book.

If your own mother drives you crazy, I hope my book will help you find some comfort in knowing you're not alone.

If you are a mother who drives your kids crazy, maybe it will help you see yourself in a new light and take steps toward rehabilitation.

And if your mother is no longer with you and you actually miss the infuriating advice, questions, and comments, I hope my mother's messages will bring you more laughter than tears.

Wishing only health, happiness, and love for you, your mother, and mine,

Amy Borkowsky

Copyright © 2001 by Amy Borkowsky

About the Author

www.sendamy.com
Amy Borkowsky is a Manhattan-based comedian and has won numerous awards as an ad agency creative director. Residing almost 1,000 miles away from her mother, Amy enjoys sitting too close to the TV, talking to strangers, and leaving the house without a sweater.