Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: WEDNESDAY, November 22, 1995                   TAG: 9511220028
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

YOU CAN CLAIM 'THE BUTLER DID IT'

This device, according to the St. Petersburg Times, handles all those calls known as telemarketing by the people who make them, but called various unprintable things by the people who answer them while dinner is getting cold.

These telemarketing people are consistent. I'll give them that. They'd call you if a tidal wave was about to demolish North America.

That is why the lawyer who invented the Phone Butler - unfortunately, the newspaper didn't identify him - should stand with Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln, Robert Edward Lee and John Riggins in the Temple of Great Americans.

It works like this: As soon as you realize the caller is not your Aunt Zelda asking you over for Thanksgiving dinner, you cut the butler on.

He says: ``Pardon me, this is the Phone Butler, and I have been directed to inform you that this household must respectfully decline your inquiry. Kindly place this number on your do-not-call list.''

The chap has an English accent and everything. Anybody hearing him is liable to think twice about trying to sell you supplemental health insurance when you already have some.

The butler is expected to cost $25 or less - which is not a lot when you can dump such calls and get back to wrestling the dog in an effort to cut her toenails.

I would hope I could put my own message in there:

``Pardon me, this is the Phone Butler at Beagle Manor. The master has retired for the evening with a sick headache acquired from trying to program the VCR properly, and the mistress is in rather a murderous mood consequent to a day of frustration in the markerplace. I dare not call either of them to the phone just now - especially the mistress, who wouldn't give a bloody second thought to wasting me.

``I trust you will take this number off your list. If you do not, the mistress will assuredly hunt you down ruthlessly and kill you. Ta. Ta. And Rule Britannia and that sort of thing.''

I know. You can always hang up on somebody selling windows that are miracles of modern technology, but your Aunt Zelda taught you that's rude.

Listen. Those telemarketers are trained to handle hang-ups. Let's see how many of 'em change careers after their first brush with an electronic butler with an English accent.