Friday, September 21, 2012

Today there is good news and bad news...

the right leg feels better.  The left leg, conversely, is feeling worse.  So now I have two bad legs to deal with rather than just one.  Clearly no walking today.  However, if there is no worsening between today and tomorrow, I will try walking a little tomorrow.  Try to see if stretching them out a bit will help.  I'm also going to play my birthday card this weekend and grab a massage and get her to focus on loosening up the leg muscles.  I have the free massage I got as a birthday gift just crying out to be used.

Yesterday I saw a movie screening.  It was in a screening room that would normally seat 60 people or so, but there were only five or six movie critics, one guest and the PR person hosting the screening.  I was trying to unwrap a piece of hard candy that someone had twisted another wrapper around for some odd reason when the woman sitting in front of me said "enough with the unwrapping already, finish up."

The implication was that I was making noise deliberately.  Now I could understand that being distracting if it was five minutes or longer.  It was about two.  Not only that, this is a foreign film and so unless she speaks French, she is reading, not listening.  But I said nothing and to be safe, I only ate one other hard candy for the rest of the film.

Afterwards, a critic I know a little from some other screenings asked me what all the fuss was about as we rode down to the parking garage in the elevator.  I explained and she laughed like mad.  To me, this woman's reaction is that of someone who is just too tightly wrapped.

Which has been me a lot since I got out of the hospital and settled into being a resident of an assisted living facility and living with being disabled although I can get a little better.  I let things bother me more than they should.  I'm doing better now than I was back in the middle of last year when I was just out, but still, things bug me more than they should and sometimes it's the little things.

I'm fortunate that the wife of one of the residents was moved to a nursing home for a higher level of care.  He would nag her to eat her soup at every single dinner.  Once was fine.  Twice was tolerable.  Three times started to get annoying.  His average was somewere between five and six, and his voice carries so he's hard to ignore.  I learned to let it not bother me by thinking every time he said it "he's doing it out of love". 

That's harder to do when you're listening to one resident berate another over an issue where the first resident has the basic information wrong.  But you just try to tune it out.  I try.  I don't always succeed but I try.  I think my frustration with all of that is why I spend more time in my room when I'm not trying to find reasons to be anywhere but here.

I've ranted about this before so some of this may seem familiar.  Language stuff.  If I go to the doctor, or the lawyer or the accountant, I'm going to see a licensed professional for their professional services.  Same can be said if I'm going to a restaurant with a famous chef, although he doesn't have a license.  Or if I'm hiring a contractor to fix my house, and he does have a license.  Or if I run over to the high-end barber shop for a trim, and again, she has a license.

But the chef, the barber and the contractor aren't "practicing".  They've got it down.  The lawyer, the doctor and the accountant are just "practicing".  I prefer someone who is no longer in the practice stage and is doing it for real.  I'm sure you can see the disconnect.

The Space Shuttle Endeavor is flying around the L.A. area this morning.  If I were an important person, I might have snagged a ride aboard the 747 lugging it from Edwards Air Force Base (a very big, very boring piece of real estate a few hours drive from L.A.  I spent a week there one afternoon [with apologies to Harry Chapin, who I borrowed that quote from] and even to see the landing or takeoff of this thing), and if I had, when it lands this morning at LAX, I'd have deplaned upon landing.  We deplane when we get off of an aircraft.  We don't deboat when leaving a ship.  We don't deauto when getting out of a car.  We don't debus when getting off of the big Blue bus.  But, we deplane.  As far as I'm concerned, the only appropriate use of "deplane, deplane" was during the first few minutes of the old "Fantasy Island" television program when "Tattoo" would spy the incoming guests arriving.  I like his character name of "Nick-Nack" from "The Man with the Golden Gun" better.

Marilyn Vos Savant is the world's smartest woman.  Heck, she might be the smartest person overall, who knows?  She's a brunette.  So if she died her hair blonde, would she lose IQ points?  Why did blonde jokes get started?  Was there a particularly dumb blonde or group of blondes?   Why is it funny if you ask "So why do blondes have TGIF written on their shoes" and then respond with the answer "Because Toes Go In First"?  It wouldn't be funny if it was a brunette with that on her shoes?  I guess now.

Lawyer jokes I understand.  "What's the difference between a lawyer and an accountant?"  Answer:  Only a lawyer can continue to screw you royally after you're dead.  Or someone asking "Why the shark didn't eat the lawyer" being out of "professional courtesy".  Lawyer jokes I get.

Jeffrey Dahmer jokes are out of style now, since he's long dead and we don't want to be reminded of the awful man who lured young men into his apartment and ate them.  So it's no longer funny to tell the story about when Jeffrey's mother came over for dinner and told her son "I really don't like your neighbors" as they were eating and hear the response "Then try the salad, Mom."  No one laughs when the attorney tells Dahmer "son, defending you is going to cost an arm and a leg" and Dahmer responsded "I've got that right here."

Branch Davidian jokes were never much in style to begin with although I admit to laughing when told "God did speak to David Koresh at the end.  He said bake at 750 degrees for four hours."

Humor fascinates me.  Light bulb jokes.  There are endless light bulb jokes, and some are fine but others may offend.  Don't ask a computer programmer "How many programmers does it take to change a light bulb?  None, it's a hardware problem."  They won't like it.  Don't ask a lawyer "How many lawyers does it take to change a light bulb?  How many can you afford?"  But those are mild.  I'd never tell my mom "How many Jewish mothers does it take to change a light bulb?  None.  They'd rather sit in the dark and just kvetch."  But even a psychiatrist wouldn't be offended by "How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb?  Well, it will take only one, if it's the right one, but it can take a very long time and it will only happen if the light bulb really wants to change."

I'll close with a religious joke.

So Saint Peter is taking a group of newly arrived souls on a tour of Heaven.  "Now this is the part of Heaven where the Muslim souls live.  And over here is where the Jewish souls live.  I know, it's a smaller part of town, but you understand.  Now this area is for the Mormons.  Okay, I need to ask everyone to tiptoe quietly past this next area."  One of the new arrivals asks "Why is that, Saint Peter?"  "Because this is the area for the Westboro Baptist Church souls and they'd get really angry if they knew anyone else was here."