Blog #325                                June 1, 2023

 

More apartment buildings, more strip malls, more Starbucks!  What have we done to our planet?  In the sage and prescient lyrics of Joni Mitchell, we’ve “paved Paradise and put up a parking lot.”  But what can I do?  Can I solve all the pollution and the greed and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to? (Shakespeare, not Joni).  Surely not.  So, I look out for my family, try to be honest with my friends and relish the time I have with those I love.  And I write to you each week.  Sometimes you even listen.  Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling strong and healthy today.

 

One of those thousand natural shocks, according to Dr. Gland, is my parathyroid.  I had some X-rays taken and they proved negative.  So there!  Can I get a copy to send to my son-in-law?  I mean, what’s the point of having a loving and wonderful radiologist son-in-law if I can’t ask him to drop everything he’s doing to tend to my problems?  The clinic said no, they could not give copies to anyone but my doctor.  But it’s my gland!  Nope, it’s against HIPPA.

 

I had two courses of action.  I chose the Yosemite Sam chasing Bugs Bunny with a shotgun course.  Are you crazy?  Get a grip on freaking reality, people.  You cannot deny me a copy of my own medical records.  Can I speak to someone with an IQ higher than my shoe size?  It worked.  I’m not proud, but it worked.  Take that, you flea-bitten wascally wabbit!  I’m not really good at diplomacy.  “Diplomacy,” Winston Churchill said, “is the art of telling people to go to hell in such a way that they ask for directions.” 

 

The weather has been exemplary, and I’ve been spending time volunteering at our Zoo.  Yesterday, I fielded my favorite question.  A middle-aged woman asked, “How do you tell the male red panda from the female?”  Now, I’ve had that question once before (about camels), and I knew I had to exercise a modicum of caution with the answer.  Here’s how you tell, I replied, the female has bigger closets.  Now that’s diplomacy! 

 

My wife is a wonderful woman and truly a piece of work.  Besides demanding the bigger closet (actually, all the closets) she is constantly jealous of her time and does not suffer delays well.  We were driving home from golf last Sunday, when she noticed some adult Canada Geese shepherding their flock down a grassy curb.  Carol said, aww, aren’t they cute?  But when we passed them, there appeared another little gaggle of Mama Goose, Papa Goose and four little puppies walking right in front of us in the middle of the road.  I was forced to stop the car. The Princess of Lickety-Split does not like being slowed down by useless things like geese or red traffic lights.  Screw those filthy vermin, she said.  Honk the damn horn and get those friggin’ bastards out of my way!  So much for aren’t they cute.

 

I truly despise all those geese

They’re smelly and filthy and mies

They’ve ruined my whole day

Get them out of my way

Or I’ll fry the whole flock in hot grease.

 

Weekly Word:  Although I cannot find mies (rhymes with geese) on Google, I know from my Jewish heritage that it is used in Yiddish to mean ugly.

 

Message from Shakespeare:  Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care (Macbeth).  I don’t think Carol is mean to animals.  She’s nice to me.  Though sometimes when I wake her up at 4:30 in the morning, she turns to me and says “I hate you.”  I know she really loves me.  Who wouldn’t?  Purr.

 

Besides celebrating Memorial Day with some golf, we went to my grandson’s soccer game.  Afterwards, we visited a place called Wally’s.  To say that Wally’s is a gas station is like saying Buckingham Palace is a bungalow.  The station had 80 gas pumps, just for the cars, an acre of retail space inside, 112 different kinds of jerky, a bakery, a carousel of people making six kinds of popcorn, Chinese food, BBQ sandwiches – and way more.  It’s an event.  I bought a Diet Coke.

 

A friend of mine is retiring.  “I’m afraid,” he told me, “that I won’t be able to fill up my time.  What am I going to do all day?”  Well, you’ve come to the right old man, I told him.  Here’s what you do:

 

·        First of all, you’re going to need more doctors.  You used to be able to get by with a Dr. Doctor, a Dr. Tooth and maybe a Dr. Eye.  But now you’re going to need a Dr. Heart, a Dr. Skin, a Dr. Back, a Dr. Hand, a Dr. Pain and a Dr. Asshole.  That’s the technical term for a proctologist, but can, on occasion, be used for other individual doctors as well.  Much of your week will be taken up finding, making appointments with and waiting for your doctors.

·        Part of your time will be occupied with filling up your weekly pill dispenser, both A.M. and P.M. sections, and with ordering refills from Canadian or Indian pharmaceutical companies so that you can save $3.20 a year.

·        A large portion of your time will be determining how you can access NETFLIX now that you no longer can leech off your children’s subscription.

·        You will spend a significant number of hours going to your grandchildren’s gymnastics tournaments and oboe recitals.  You must do that or they won’t teach you how to get NETFLIX.

·        By the time you have dealt with all that, it will be time to watch Jeopardy, take a nap and get to the early-bird special.

·        And each Thursday, you have to read Limerick Oyster.

 

IN THE NEWS:  The countries of Venezuela, El Salvador and Honduras have officially notified the International Olympic Committee that they will not be sending teams to the 2024 Paris Olympics.  It appears that all the people in those countries who can run, swim or pole-vault have already made it to Texas.

 

And I don’t care whether you run, swim or pole-vault.  Just get your behind back here next Thursday for the next Limerick Oyster.  It might even be a good one.  Until then, stay well, stay busy and count your blessings.

 

Michael                                             Send comments to mfox1746@mail.com