Sung to the tune of Huey Lewis

I need a new phone.

I think it's time. I've had the same old cell phone for a long time, and it's been of only marginal usefulness to me. For one thing, the battery appears to consist of paper clip electrodes submerged in an applesauce electrolyte; the point is that the battery literally lasts only about seven minutes. If you call me and I suddenly fall silent after seven minutes, it's not because I was suddenly laid low by The Grippe or struck by a meteorite; my battery just quit. This is no exaggeration. It fails to rapidly you can actually see the battery bars dwindle. I bought a new one a while back, but it's really no better. Maybe I shouldn't have purchased a phone with a toaster-oven attachment.

The next problem with my phone is that my number was recycled from some previous person. Whoever this Calvin fellow was, he must have been something of a man about town, because I get no end of calls from, shall we say, crisis debt management firms looking to have unholy congress with his checking account. The man's got some bad debts is what I'm saying, and they automatically assume that just because I answer the phone I must be the Calvin in question.

It might be different if it were some lovely contralto voice saying "Hey baby, tell me about your Krebs Cycle." But it's always a harsh, nasal voice that says "We're going to nuke you into next week if you don't call us back."

I stopped answering the phone, partially because I don't enjoy empty threats, and partially because by the time I convince them that I'm not Calvin and I never purchased a set of Harley-Davidson leather trousers, my seven minutes of battery time are up and I'm back in the Land that Time Forgot. So why bother? Better to not answer the phone at all than to have seven minutes of highly unsatisfactory parley with people who constitutionally mistrust me (you can hear it in their voices: "You say you aren't Calvin, but I know you're really Calvin, because you sound like Calvin, you bastard!").

What would life be like if my cell phone number had been used by someone more notable? Say, Judge Judy?