11-21-05
I was talking to an older man the other day. Really nice guy. Every time we talk, he asks about my father's health and then goes into his own health problems.
I am nice enough to listen. Of course, I hope he is doing okay and will listen to him. The other day, he happened to mention that he was doing really good (which I was glad to hear) and his only problem was taking medicine to soften his bowel movements.
Whoa! That's going over the line. Personally, I draw the line when it comes to hearing about somebody needing to take medicine so their droppings are softer.
My gosh, I am not the least bit shy. But I can never imagine telling somebody, "Why yes, I am doing well, thank you. That stool softener pill is really doing wonders!"
Nope, not gonna happen. You always have to be careful about asking some people how they are doing. This always happens to me. I'll try to act nice and interested and ask somebody how they are doing.
This is just being nice and more of a greeting than an actual give me your medical history. I hope everybody is doing okay, but I don't want to hear everything that is going on with a person's health.
A lot of the older people can spend hours talking about everything wrong with them. I think Congress or the Senate should make it illegal to talk more than, say, two minutes about a person's health. If it goes longer, they should be penalized and made to watch The Best of Lawrence Welk.
Actually, that probably wouldn't be much punishment, except for younger people. Make them watch MTV or something like that. I know that would be punishing for me.
Today is Monday. Thanksgiving is three days away. I was telling my wife about when I lived in Texas back in the late 80s. I always had to work Thanksgiving morning and the next day, so I couldn't get back home.
It was just me and I wasn't going to all of the trouble of doing a Thanksgiving meal, so for a couple of years, my meal was a hamburger from Whataburger in Denison, Texas. There were always like two workers and some other lonely person in the place eating.
The workers would look at me like I was homeless, or something. It didn't bother me. A Whataburger didn't rank up there with the Fuddrucker burger, but at least it was fast and easy. Then, I would go home and veg out the rest of the day.
I am nice enough to listen. Of course, I hope he is doing okay and will listen to him. The other day, he happened to mention that he was doing really good (which I was glad to hear) and his only problem was taking medicine to soften his bowel movements.
Whoa! That's going over the line. Personally, I draw the line when it comes to hearing about somebody needing to take medicine so their droppings are softer.
My gosh, I am not the least bit shy. But I can never imagine telling somebody, "Why yes, I am doing well, thank you. That stool softener pill is really doing wonders!"
Nope, not gonna happen. You always have to be careful about asking some people how they are doing. This always happens to me. I'll try to act nice and interested and ask somebody how they are doing.
This is just being nice and more of a greeting than an actual give me your medical history. I hope everybody is doing okay, but I don't want to hear everything that is going on with a person's health.
A lot of the older people can spend hours talking about everything wrong with them. I think Congress or the Senate should make it illegal to talk more than, say, two minutes about a person's health. If it goes longer, they should be penalized and made to watch The Best of Lawrence Welk.
Actually, that probably wouldn't be much punishment, except for younger people. Make them watch MTV or something like that. I know that would be punishing for me.
Today is Monday. Thanksgiving is three days away. I was telling my wife about when I lived in Texas back in the late 80s. I always had to work Thanksgiving morning and the next day, so I couldn't get back home.
It was just me and I wasn't going to all of the trouble of doing a Thanksgiving meal, so for a couple of years, my meal was a hamburger from Whataburger in Denison, Texas. There were always like two workers and some other lonely person in the place eating.
The workers would look at me like I was homeless, or something. It didn't bother me. A Whataburger didn't rank up there with the Fuddrucker burger, but at least it was fast and easy. Then, I would go home and veg out the rest of the day.
posted by Craig Hall at
5:45 AM
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