Blog #45
Doesn’t anybody care
about their privacy anymore? They put
their whole lives on Facebook. They put
naked pictures of themselves on You Tube.
They twitter their every thought to the whole world. They live in a fantastic goulash of
continuous and interminable connection to as many other lost souls as they can.
I
want my privacy and I want my
solitude. The younger generations
want to be connected to as many people as possible for as much time as possible
and they don’t care who knows what. I
don’t get it. Doesn’t anybody ever want
to be alone besides me and Greta Garbo?
Now that I think of it, if I am so passionate about my
privacy and my solitude, why am I vomiting up all the secrets of my life to you
every Thursday? I mean, you know everything about me – about my
naked light treatments with the brown paper bag over my head; about my
obsessive morning visits to McDonald’s; about my utter technological ignorance;
about my urine sample. Have I told you
about my urine sample? Maybe not.
A while ago I had to give a urine sample to the
lab. All I had to do was deliver it, but
when I arrived, there was a line at the receptionist’s desk. I caught her eye and held up the filled vial,
whereupon she pointed to the back of the line and said:
Good
afternoon, Sir, I can C
You’ve
brought in a bottle of P
If
we could ask U
To
stand in the Q
We’ll
take you as soon as can B
Well, at least I haven’t posted any naked pictures. You should thank me for that! Welcome back, everyone, to my latest
episode. I hope you are feeling well and
staying warm. I have readers in California, Phoenix, Las Vegas, Georgia, Florida and
Afghanistan. They are probably warm, but
here in St. Louis it has been really cold. It’s so cold, I saw Rachel Maddow and Steve
Bannon hugging. It’s so cold, Charley
Rose now takes a shower with his clothes on. It’s so cold, Al Franken is rubbing his own breasts. (I’ll probably think of some more.)
Is all this giving you a headache? In
my youth – you had a headache, you took aspirin. You went to the corner drugstore -- Bert
& Jeanette’s on Clayton Road next to Lake Forest Bakery. Mmmmm, the smell of butter cookies wafting
through the air! Where was I? Aspirin!
There were two kinds – the small bottle of Bayer Aspirin and the large
bottle of Bayer Aspirin. The large
bottle had twice as many pills and cost twice as much. And if it didn’t work, the only other course
of action was – lie down; it’ll get better.
Now it’s different. Recently, I
went to get something for a headache.
The pain reliever aisle at Walgreen’s was three miles long and the
Tylenol section had 100 different kinds, mixtures, sizes and configurations of
Tylenol. They had a pineapple-flavored
Tylenol. They had a Free-Range Tylenol. And for each one, there was a Walgreen’s
store-brand version that was exactly the same.
That made 200 different choices.
And that’s just Tylenol! Then
there were 200 kinds of Advil, 200 kinds of Aleve, 200 kinds of Motrin and yes,
there was actually aspirin. What was I to do? It’s enough to give you a headache.
I just went to get the mail. Getting the mail is a routine, but very
important part of the day. To many, it
is almost a holy pilgrimage to trek to the mailbox or Post Office each and
every day without fail. Our letter
carrier (I almost said Mailman which, of course, would have been horrible. After all, it could have been a Femail Man.) –
our letter carriers let neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of
night stay them from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.
The mail is where you get your bills, wedding
invitations, holiday cards and magazines.
I go each day to the mailbox with the same thrill of anticipation and
aura of mystery that a five-year-old has when opening a birthday present. Today
there was only one item, an invitation to an Open House at the new Senior
Lifestyle Community down the street. Is
that sad? To find nothing but a reminder
of how old you are? Last week I got a
catalog displaying the latest in Cremation Urns. How do they know I’m old? Do they read my blog?
Can you guess the magazine with the largest
subscription? It’s AARP The Magazine. In second place is AARP Bulletin. They each have about 23 million
readers. By contrast, Time,
National Geographic, Cosmopolitan, Sports Illustrated and Readers Digest each
have about 3 million readers. It seems
that AARP has the Old People market under control. What we need are magazines for Dead
People. Here are a few proposals: Good
Hearsekeeping, Corpse Illustrated, Better Plots and Gardens. I know, I’m warped.
Jon, an old friend and
loyal reader, has written a book. It’s
called Questions for Kids: The time to start talking with kids is now! It’s an accumulation of thoughtful questions
for you and your kids, grandkids, or even friends to stimulate insightful
discussions. It’s actually a lot of fun
as well. You can find it on Amazon.
The Tire Pressure light came on in my car, so I took
it to my preferred station where I encountered a large, young and unfamiliar
attendant. I told him my problem and
asked if he could check it out. The man
reached in a drawer, removed a pressure gauge and handed it to me. I told him I didn’t know how to use it (I
only recently have figured out how to use a stapler) and asked if he could do
it for me. He sneered at me and said, “You’re
a grown-ass man!” Now, I have
reached the stage in my life where I’m pretty sure no big, strong, young, rude
jerk is going to punch a limping old man in the nose. And even though I am not good with mechanical
things, I am really good with my mouth.
So I responded, “I am an old man who needs some help.
I bring all my business here and am asking you to provide a
service. Do you think you can handle that
without being rude and insulting?” He
reluctantly and begrudgingly left his post, walked outside and filled the tires
to the proper amount. “Thank you, “I
said. “You know, one of these days you
will be an old man and you might need some help.” He nodded and walked inside. Don’t mess with me.
It’s so cold that Donald Trump just
booked a cruise to one of those shithole countries. See, I told
you I’d think of another one.
Stay well and don’t put any naked pictures on You
Tube. Please! And don’t forget my two know-it-all friends, Ben There and Don That. See you next week.
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