Episode 6: Too Late

"Faith is a belief not supported by evidence."
- Ambrose Bierce (simplified)

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Curious, isn't it, that people of my generation are just figuring out that the current admnistration intends to kill social security, not to mention every meaningful welfare program enacted from the New Deal to the Great Society.
He said he'd do it in 2000, and he said it again in 2004. Over and over. But recent polls show his approval rating is only now starting to drop with voters over 55 because they have finally got it that he really, really means to repeal the last century.
Too late.

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Did it occur to the manufacturers what message they were sending when they put Braille on the buttons of their drive-up ATMs?

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Speaking of old people...
I forget where I put my keys.
I forget which car I brought to the store.
I forget why I got up from the couch.
I forget why I'm looking into the fridge.
I forget whether I took my pills.
I forget whether I turned off the stove.
I forget whether I charged my cellphone.
I forget my password.
I forget what this vegetable is called.
But it'll come to me in a minute. Or two.....um......

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Oysters on Toast
This can be made without the prosciutto, for a light, appetizing first course. With the prosciutto and sides of, say, aspargus and saffron rice, it serves as a tasty entree.
Serves four to six.

One stick of butter
6 slices of fairly thick white bread, crusts removed and discarded
One ounce of imported or domestic prosciutto
One-half cup minced shallots
One-quarter cup minced green sweet pepper
18 oysters, shucked and drained
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
3 dashes Tabasco sauce
Juice of one lemon
Minced parsley for garnish

Melt half the butter and spread with a brush on both sides of the bread slices. Toast the bread.
Melt the remaining butter in a medium pan over medium heat. If using the prosciutto, add it to the butter and saute until it starts to crisp, about three minutes. Add the shallots and minced pepper and drop the heat to low. Cook for two minutes.
Add the oysters and cook, stirring gently, until they start to plump and start to curl on the edges. Swirl in the salt, pepper, Tabasco, and lemon juice. Spoon equal amounts over each of the toast slices. Sprinkle with parsley. Serve.

You don't have to thank me.

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Archive: Bury Me Not Yet
Date: February 25, 2001
Subject: Me

All:
Don't say I never tell you anything.

On March 14, I enter Westchester Medical Center for coronary bypass surgery. The operation will take four to five hours. They will extract (I believe the euphemism is "harvest") veins from my left thigh, left forearm, and chest and use them to bypass clogged arteries serving my heart, one of which is totally blocked and another, 90% closed. My surgeon says that this operation is fatal in less than one percent of cases and that the benefits are far greater than the risk. He also says I have already had "many" heart attacks - of the silent variety, obviously. News to me.

I will be in intensive care for about five days. My first week at home I am told I will spend my time sleeping a lot and walking up and down stairs. I expect I will also be dopey, cranky, and uncommunicative (please don't go for the obvious observation here). I will not be able to drive for three or four weeks, and full recovery will take at least two months. The results of the procedure (that other euphemism) will allow me to return to a life of utter dissolution, or if Jo won't let me do that, at least a life where I can once again shovel snow without fear, walk ten miles a day, climb pyramids, kayak through white water...and like that.

Flowers, cards, and phone calls will be a complete waste on me those first two or three weeks, so please restrain any impulse you might have in those directions. Jo, on the other hand, will no doubt be delighted to receive any such indications of support. She should get back to work on shortened hours by the second week, but will also have to do all the errands I now do - the cooking, the laundry, the drycleaning, the food shopping - as well as uttering an occasional "aww" in my vicinity. That will make for some very full days.

I just hope the eagles keep flying past our bedroom window.