Hello...

   The phone rings.It's from an unfamiliar number, but I answer it anyway.(Yes, I know it's not the thing to do) The male caller says, in an accented voice, "Hello, Mrs. Schroder, it's Jab...''' I interrupt, "Sorry, not interested." The caller. in a more plaintive tone, "Mrs. Schroder, don't you remember me? It's Jabbar."  Shades of the past, it was Danny's old soccer coach, Jabbar. From Afghanistan, I recall.  He lives in Delmar now and is trying to get in touch with his old championship soccer team. Danny was star goalie.  I should have known the call wasn't from one of those computer-repair centers. They have accents, but their names are always Bill or Tom  or Mike. 

NYC

One cold winter day, and the 4 of us, including Gus, were in NYC, under the Castro Convertible sign. Probably in Feb. 1972 or so. I can't remember why we went or what we did, though I think we must have stayed over. Will  have to look in my old----very old---journals.
 (I look like a frozen munchkin and Dorothy looks like a model. Dave looks pretty good too. They both loved the camera, especially the guy in the middle.)

Safe at home?

Could it be that if I don't go far from home
    Or if I stay inside and lock the doors
    And not watch television
    Or read the newspapers,
And if I don't ask any questions
Or try to come up with any answers,
That it will pass me by.

Organ Recital

So now I'll need to find an interstitiumologist.  It's cited to be the largest organ in the human body. It's all over, everywhere in you. Like under your skin,throughout your body. How it's escaped detection  all these years is remarkable, must be a stealth organ. Implications for further study of causes of cancer et al are far reaching, so let's rule whoever funded and researched that grant to be saviors. All media outlets are giving full coverage. For now. And, by the way, the coyote on the museum doorstep has been released into the wild.

Op Ed

Medical Malfeasance

    I won't go so far back as a missing (later shredded) X-ray report which was a potential difference between  life and death, or to a print out of a report that sighted an artificial heart valve. Those were some years ago.  I'll cite only the events of the past year:
      July:   Instead of a scheduled simple ultrasound for a kidney stone follow-up, I was handed a blanket, led down the long hospital  hallway to a treatment room where I was told to prepare to be there for at least 3 hours.  I had to rebel. Nope, wrong person.
     November:  Wrong readings on ultrasound report with ominous findings led me to undergo major surgery.  Pathology report showed no such finding.  Oops!
    February:  Routine follow up office visit morphed into my being handed a pill and cup of water prior to office surgery, a cystoscopy, whatever that is. Oops!
    March------I'm so angry this time I can't even talk about it.
   
 
         

Ah-monds

  I think I saw this commercial last night on TV, but I was more than half asleep, so am not sure I got it right. A man is driving his car and his passenger keeps telling the silent driver how much he likes "ahmonds."   He keeps repeating the name of the nut over and over again. Finally, the picture shows him being booted out of the car: as the car is moving away, the driver yells out---"It's ALmonds!"
   I can relate.  I harbored the same impulse for about a dozen years when I drove a fellow worker to our annual conference in Syracuse. The drive took us about 3 hours, and she, in a rather self-satisfied manner, displayed the conditions of obsessive-compulsive disorder.  When she wasn't engaged in actual conversation, she would talk to herself:  "That folder goes here.  I'm going to put my smaller purse into my larger totebag. I'll charge my phone when I get to the hotel. I 'll check on my daughter later."  Several hours of memos to self. She was a very nice person, as was I , so  I knew I would never kick her out of a moving car. But the thought did cross  my mind.
   *****I saw the ad again, when I was more awake.  That is, my eyes were open this time. The person ejected from the car was the driver, who couldn't take it anymore, not the annoying passenger.  I suspect an edit somewhere along the line---no one can show violence toward another in these hypersensitive times.