O Brother(s), Where Art Thou?

We came home last night to a cryptic voicemail message from John from <garbled noise> addressed to Eric and Daniel, hoping he'd see us again soon. I can't think of any telesolicitors that should know we both live here, and I can't think of anyone who actually knows Dan (except his mother when she's mad at him) that calls him "Daniel." After a bit of pondering, mystery solved. My church recently instituted a new way of tracking attendance, with the theory being that you get a letter after a couple of missed weeks, and a phone call after 3 or so, just to make sure you're still OK.

I'm not sure how well it's working, though, because while I missed this week, I was there last week, and missed the 2 weeks previous to that. And a coworker mentioned that she recently received a call — but hasn't been in 2 years. Clearly, the system has its kinks.*

*(Not the least of which is the process of trying to pass little clipboards out during the offeratory, and — neatly — print your name with the attached pen. Dewayne and I have noted that one of us always seems to be left holding said clipboard when the offeratory ends — and then there is the question of what-to-do with it when it reaches the end of your pew.)