Blog #389                                August 22, 2024

 

My grandson Tyler left this week for college at Mizzou, the University of Missouri in Columbia.  Tyler is a great kid, good student, smart, personable.  College will be a big step for Tyler, his first time away from home.

 

I was like Tyler.  I never wanted to leave my home, never went to summer camps, only did Cub Scouts for a little while, never joined sports teams or clubs in high-school.  My parents didn’t push me, and I guess I just had too much anxiety.  I had friends, but I never did much.  The only good things I did in high-school were to make good grades and meet Carol Brin.  When it came time for college, there was no way I could wrap my anxiety around leaving home.  I applied to Washington University in St. Louis and got in.  I didn’t know anybody there.  Carol was going away to Indiana University.  That summer, I got a phone call.  It was actually from a guy who is now a reader of this blog.  He introduced himself and told me there was going to be a pickup softball game on Saturday with a few guys who were Sammies (Sigma Alpha Mu fraternity) at Washington U. and a bunch of local guys who were going to be Freshmen.  I was being rushed, I guess.  I went.  There were a lot of people I didn’t know.  I was nervous, anxious.  They asked me where I wanted to play.  I said shortstop.  So I played.  It’s funny, sixty-one summers later, I can still picture the three great plays I made at shortstop.  I can picture them like they were this morning.  I’ll bet you have old memories like that.

 

I became a Sammy.  They told me to do this and that; I did this and that.  I’m very good at following directions.  Just ask Carol.  They got me into sports.  I played shortstop on the intra-mural softball team and volleyball and tennis.  They got me into campus politics, into entertainment with Bearskin Follies and Thurteen Carnival.  I guess I just needed that push, that “utz”.  From a nerdy high-school kid with no activities, I became a Big Man on Campus with all kinds of awards – and fun.  That’s what Tyler needs – that “utz”.  Just a little shove.  The right guy, the right girl, the right group to get him started on that new, successful career. 

 

Mine got started by that phone call in the summer of ’63.  And then, of course, Carol took over.  My wife is not just a social butterfly; she is a social bird-of paradise.  I coaxed her back to Washington University and made her the Sweetheart of Sigma Alpha Mu and she took over my life.  Best thing that ever happened to me.  I still have tendencies to be a stay-at-home nerd, but she keeps me going.

 

Hi there, and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling fine and not bored by that long story.  This pneumonia just makes me want to sit around and do nothing, which, I guess is my natural state anyway.  Medical Alert:  I am not contagious, so it is safe to read this blog.  However, this blog may cause drowsiness or intermittent giggles.  Thank you for all the warm messages, concerns and wishes you sent me.  They warmed the cockles of my heart.  Wait, do I still have cockles?  Didn’t they take those out when they were installing my pacemaker?  Who can remember?  In any event, they warmed my pacemaker.  Thanks.

 

I did get one thing done this week, something I’ve been promising to get done for a long time.  A bought a TUIT.  I bought the round kind; they’re the best actually.  For years, I’ve been telling Carol I was going to get a Round Tuit, and I finally did.

 

Ok, so it’s not really important that you get my humor every single time.  If you did, I’d be very frightened for you.  Weirdness has its own signature, and if yours were the same as mine – well, I’ll see you in the van.

 

My doctor didn’t trust the Urgent Care pneumonia diagnosis, so I went to his office.  I love my Dr. Doctor.  So I met with him and we talked, then he sent me down the hall to the lab for blood-work, then into the main hospital to register for a chest x-ray.  The entire process – consultation, lab, x-ray – took about 35 minutes.  He sent me home with this note:

 

When I get back the tests, I will phone ya

To tell you if you have pneumonia

But if you get worse

I’m sending this verse

To say that I’m glad to have known ya.

 

With all my time at home recovering, I’ve had occasion to look at the internet.  Did you know there’s a new trend out there called sologamy (rhymes with monogamy)?  Sologamy, our Weekly Word, is the practice of choosing yourself as a spouse.  That’s right, you’d be married to yourself.  I am very pleased and totally proud to say I don’t get it.  All I know is that if I had told my mother I was getting married to myself, she would have said, “That’s nice, Dear.  At least you’re marrying someone Jewish.”  What kind of gift do you give at a sologamous wedding?  A mirror?  Towels marked Mine and Mine?  Batteries?

 

Message from Shakespeare:  Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee (All’s Well That Ends Well).  I don’t get this marriage thing.  Is marriage just when you live together and schnoogle and love each other?  Does that mean Pops and I are married?  Do I need to buy towels?  His and Purrs?

 

The Democratic National Convention has been on all week.  I don’t know who’s going to win, but they sure take a lot of polls, don’t they?   I just read one that claims Democrats are leading among White Suburban Women who have a loving husband and a three-legged cat named Shakespeare.  I’m rambling.  But rambling is what you pay me for, isn’t it?  Wait, are you paying me?  I’m rambling again.  It should be time to go now, take a nap, get back my strength so that next week I can thank you again for being such nice readers.  See you then.  Stay well and count your blessings.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1746@gmail.com