Ring. Nobody's Home.

In 1997 I attended the senior art show at the school where I teach and saw a painting I liked. Unlike most of the work, which was labled "NFS," this one was labeled "POR," or "Price on Request."

So I made a request. I asked the artist if he would be interested in a barter - his painting for a song I would write, based on the painting. He was interested.

He wasn't a student I knew very well, but through our brief exchanges and his many art works I had gained a fondness and respect for him. I was getting his painting for a song, and wanted to make sure I wasn't taking advantage. He assured me I wasn't. I also wanted to learn about him. There are two things I remember from that conversation: that he said "I'm just ordinary," and that he was a fan of Ben Folds Five.

So I sat down and tried to write something Ben Foldsy. I hit a chord (Cm11) hard and often, because that seemed Ben Foldsy to me. The first lyric of the song was a response to the artist's claim that he was ordinary.

The rest of the song made me realize why I was drawn to the painting in the first place. I had been hurt by a friend, a betrayal of sorts, and was desperate not to talk to him, whereas I suspected he wanted to talk. Every time the phone rang, I had a mini-panic attack (I wasn't adjusting well) and I wouldn't answer the phone. This was before caller i.d., at least in my house.

In the painting, the perspective shifts. Someone is moving closer to the phone between the first and second panel. Someone who isn't answering the phone. And I imagined why the person might do that.

And I wrote "Ring. Nobody's Home."