Next to having a root canal or prostate exam, I can’t imagine anything more abhorrent than spending an hour standing in front of a sea of birthday cards, trying to decide on the one that best says, “Happy birthday, Mom!” It’s not the cost. After all, most greeting cards will only lighten your wallet by a few bucks. No, it’s dog-paddling through the overwhelming tsunami of listless verbiage that makes me wish I had followed through with that experimental corneal transplant, afterall. To be fair, greeting card makers do try to help by dividing them into sections like, “For Dads,” “Baby’s First Year,” and “Humorous.” They’re meant to make the…
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Those Good Old Time Diseases Why nobody gets Dry Bellyache or Bucket Fever these days
I was a first-grader at Van Nuys Elementary School the first time I came into contact with the medical system and its old time diseases. As a healthy child, the only thing that slowed me down was the occasional off-color weenie on “Hot Dog Friday.” None of the hair-netted ladies behind the steam table thought for a minute that I could have something as serious as Ptomaine Poisoning and wouldn’t have been able to recognize it even if I had. Instead, one of them took off her apron and marched me downstairs to the nurse’s office where she laid me down on an old army cot that smelled of other…
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The Camino Curse How a gallon of red wine and too much free time can spell disaster
Long before lassoing our first girlfriends and wives, Saturday nights were reserved for “the boys” and were always tough to fill. Oh sure, we could have gone to the movies or played miniature golf, but what would be the point of that? What kind of memories would we create by spending an entire evening at the Rivoli Theater or the Putt Putt miniature golf course? There would be plenty of time for that later when we were old and in our 30s. With nothing to do and no money to do it, we typically congregated in the back of the parking lot shared by the Big Donut and the Pup…
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Shake My Hand or I’ll Kiss You The simple handshake isn’t the only way people say hello... and it isn’t isolated to the United States
Moments after I was born, Dr. Felsenbaum greeted me with a slap on my heinie. Naturally, I was too young to understand the significance of the gesture and took immediate offense to being manhandled straight out of the womb. As it turns out, it wouldn’t be the last time someone slapped me on my backside. I just wished he would have given me a firm hand shake instead. That whack on the bum was my first introduction to a long list of quaint American greeting traditions and was meant to get me started crying and breathing. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. I would have preferred a…
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Five Minutes from Lorraine Moxie CrimeFighter & Cholera Priest: babies' names have gone wild
During the period affectionately known as the Baby Boom, routine amniocentesis and maternal sonograms were still years away. And while the 50s and 60s can claim fame to some of the best music in the history of the universe, its struggling medical practices offered no help to new parents trying to choose their babies’ names. That being the case, one would think the prudent thing to do would be to spread your bets equally across two columns of baby names: one for boys and one for girls. But my parents were so convinced that I was going to be a girl, they put everything on pink and let it ride.…
