Blog #144

My family has initiated a new holiday tradition called “Let Mikey Try It”.  I am extremely skeptical of alternative medical schemes, especially those that require six months of treatment before they relieve you of your ailment.  The people pushing the product figure that by the end of six months you will have forgotten who sold it to you.  Besides, it doesn’t work for everybody.

Over the Thanksgiving weekend, my wife met a man who was promoting the wondrous effects of CBD oil, so Carol said, “Let Mikey Try It.”  Well, I had to be polite, so I rubbed some hempy goop on my knee.  Nothing.  But, of course, I need to do it for six months and spend hundreds of dollars before I can tell if it really works.  And it doesn’t work for everybody.

The next day, David, my son-in-law doctor, showed me a kind of TENS (transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation) device that perhaps could help. I reminded him that I have a defibrillator and that an electrical charge run through my body could light me up like the Fourth of July.  David called the manufacturer of this electrical device who said that, technically, you cannot use it on someone with a Pacemaker-Defibrillator, but what the hell! It’s the holiday season so “Let Mikey Try It”. 

David got out the device and attached it to my knee.  But before I let him turn it on, I had my daughter get her phone and enter the 9 and the 1, so she wouldn’t waste any time getting me emergency relief should my defib decide to turn me into Southern Fried Chicken.  Although, that would have been festive. 

We know you have pain in your knee

Let’s try this machine and we’ll see

Plus it might be quite nice

To set off your device

So you’ll shine like a big Christmas Tree.

My family is always thoughtful, but I disappointed them.  My nose did not catch on fire and lightning did not come out of my posterior.  Maybe next time.  Oh, I forgot to tell you, you have to use it for six months before you get results.  Besides, it doesn’t work for everybody.

Hi there and welcome back?  I hope you’re feeling well and looking forward to Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Years and National Monkey Day, which is this Saturday.  I’m not sure how to celebrate National Monkey Day, but it sounds more festive than National Ding-A-Ling Day, which is today.  I’m not making these up, you know.  You celebrate National Ding-A-Ling day by calling someone you haven’t spoken to in a long time.  I don’t get it.  If I cared about them, I would have called them long before this.

No, I’m not being curmudgeonly.  Well, not yet.  National Curmudgeons Day isn’t until January 29^th.  I’m actually feeling kind of chipper this week.  In fact, I’m as happy as a chicken on Thanksgiving morning.  I’m as happy as the man who turned down Jeffrey Epstein’s life insurance policy.  I’m as happy as the guy who patented the Impeach the Bastard bumper sticker. Why?  Because I did not get anywhere near Cyber Monday.  Did you participate?  It’s not really a popular holiday for old people.  Especially people like me who think PayPal and eBay are the Scylla and Charybdis of the modern world.  How about that for some obscure Odyssean reference?  I think old people (you know who you are) should have their own set of holidays.  Not Black Friday or Cyber Monday or National Monkey Day.  How about Medicare Monday or Stool Softener Saturday?  I had one for Friday, but I forget.  Oh yes, Forgetting Friday.

Hey, Guys out there.  Do you ever feel like a car?  Sometimes I feel that, to a woman, a husband is no more than a useful, easy to maintain appliance – like a car.  All she has to do is fill it up, keep it clean and it takes her anywhere she wants to go.  It carries her packages, keeps her warm and keeps the rain off her head.  Sure, there are glitches here and there – a broken axle (hip replacement), a damaged fuel pump (bypass surgery), but she just takes it in for repairs and it’s fine.  The only difference is they don’t give her a loaner.  But that’s ok, I don’t mind.  I’m just glad she hasn’t traded me in for a shiny new model -- yet.  But I’m getting a little tired of being called Edsel.

ROTTEN OYSTERS:  This will be my new name for movie reviews.  Like it?  Let’s start with Dark Waters, an Erin Brockovich type story with a bad guy, the nasty old chemical company, and a good guy, the overmatched lawyer trying to help the poor people who were poisoned.  It was an okay movie, I guess, a little slow, a little long.  And let’s face it, Mark Ruffalo is no Julia Roberts.  If there’s nothing else to do, go see it.

People send me a lot of jokes and funny stuff.  I got one this week about a boy who was taking a math test.  The question was: Bill has 36 candy bars. He eats 29. Now what does Bill have?  The boy answered: Diabetes.

Here’s something that’s not funny.  I went to a Panera Bread store and placed an order to go.  The young girl who took the order asked for a name.  Michael, I said.  What did you want me to say, Edsel?  The order was ready quickly and the man who read the ticket called out the name Michelle.  Could that be Michael, I asked?  He showed me the ticket.  It read MIKELLL.  And you want to raise the minimum wage?  What exactly should we pay a 15-year-old who can’t spell the single most common name in the English-speaking world?

Ok, that’s it.  I’m through with you, and you’re happily through with me.  I will not lighten your spirits or tickle your brain for another week.  Until then, stay well, count your blessings and be nice – give someone a ding-a-ling.  And go ahead, read The Odyssey.  As Anthony D’Angelo urged, “Develop a passion for learning. If you do, you will never cease to grow."  See you next week.

Edsel                                         Send comments to:  mfox1746@gmail.com