To Beep or not to Beep

For the past several days, I have heard a series of three beeps whenever I am on my veranda. I thought it was the alarm system in the office suite next door. Yesterday evening, I discovered it was my downstairs neighbor's smoke detector. She is not in residence at the moment and is not renting her unit, so the condo board pres. and I entered (with a key) and replaced the battery. Silence reigned supreme.

Or so I thought. Later in the evening, as I was on the phone, I heard a periodic single beep. I thought it was my new cell phone, which irritates me by making more noises than the old one. I detoured to the study and was nearly knocked over by an ear-splitting beep from my carbon monoxide detector. Thankfully, it merely needed replacement batteries; it did not indicate that my gas water heater was going wonky. (To thank me after I refreshed its batteries, the CO detector gave an equally loud but longer beep.)

All this brought to mind one of the answering machine messages I had in college. This is it, as best as I can remember.

To beep or not to beep, that is the question. Whether to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous messages, or to hang up, and by opposing, end them. To speak, and by to speak to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that messages are heir to. To speak, perchance to answer. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.

I need to change my current message, although it's not like I'm such a social butterfly that I'm away when anyone phones and hears it often enough to be bored with it. I used to be quite creative with my messages. Once, I had a friend sing lyrics I had made up to the Toreador song from Carmen. (It was in too high a key for her, but she performed admirably.)

*** is not home now. Leave an answer please. The day and time you called, it's such a breeze.
And so on.

Then there was the assistance I received from a song by The Playmates.

I can not answer the phone right now. Please leave an answer after the...
Beep-beep. Beep-beep.
His horn went beep-beep-beep.

Robomarkov left an almost rabid message asking where I had gotten the recording of "Fast Food" by Stevens & Grdnic. You remember it...

I want a cheesburger,
onion rings,
and a
large,
orange
drink.
Please.

I once received a message from a woman who said that she had misdialed but loved my message so much that she stayed on the line to tell me. My favorite, though, was the woman who was recorded laughing after hearing Spike Jones' rendition of "Chloe".

(Sound effects ring)
Hello?
You don't say.
You don't say!
You don't say.
(group) Who was it?
He didn't say.

I've had the same message (the 60 Minutes team introduction, with me tacked onto the end) for several years. I wonder what caused my brain to go stagnant.