Yesterday I had an appointment with the eye doctor.  That means...

my eyes had to be dilated.  Before I get into the specifics of that and what else happened at the appointment, a few old, tired, but still amusing entries from the updated "Irish Medical Dictionary":

Artery - the study of paintings.
Dilate - to live a long time.
Barium - what you do after someone dilates.  Or if they die early.
Enema - someone who blocks you on Facebook.

So I was ten minutes late to my appointment.  My fault.  But the waiting room was full and I waited over an eye before it was my turn anyway.  Then after the rest of the eye exam was done, the optometrist in training (the exams are all done by residents, but there is an attending optometrist who double-checks their work) put in the strongest drops I've ever had used to dilate my eyes.  Then I waited more than an hour for them to take effect.

Finally, more than three hours after my arrival I was done, and able to leave.  But my eyes were so dilated that the sunlight was nearly blinding, even with sunglasses on.  I should have taken advantage of their offer for plastic sunglass like covers to go over my glasses.  They might have helped.

The movie cost me an extra $5.50 because I couldn't make the original bargain matinee at my theater of choice.  I've thought about sending the VA a bill, but they'll probably charge me $472.93 for paperwork processing before giving me a credit of $5.50 off of that fee.

The thread about Zucky's popped onto my FB page yesterday so this morning I changed my profile picture to one of Ted's Grill, my grandfather's restaurant.  It closed in 1975, but when it was open, it was one of the best restaurants in Santa Monica. 

I'm going to have to talk to the dining room chef again next week.  He said he has V-8 juice in stock for me, but it's never easily found when he's not there, and it is never chilled.  I'd rather pay for it if getting it free means never getting it chilled.  It may be a small thing, but I like my juice chilled rather than warm.

Apparently the CLOO network is taking the TV show "JAG" off of its schedule permanently.  Before they do, they're running a marathon where they are airing every episode of the show, in order they were originally aired.  That's ten seasons worth of shows.  After doing that, no one would want to watch any more reruns of the show anyway.  But watching it made me wonder about something.  What TV show that ran for an extended number of seasons was the "cruelest" to its characters.

"Star Trek: The Next Generation" killed off one regular (at her request).  So did "M*A*S*H" although it got rid of a few others by other means.  Then I thought about "ER" which I'm in the middle of watching all the way through, with only season 14 of 15 left to go (no interest in the last season for some reason).  They gave one regular AIDS, although she survived.  They took the arm of one regular, chopped off by a helicopter blade, before killing him in a helicopter crash the following season or so.  One regular died of brain cancer, after going through a rough course of treatment.  One regular was killed while serving in Iraq as a doctor.  One regular just lost his legs when hit by a vehicle while very drunk in an episode I watched yesterday.  One regular was forced to kill the father of her son after he kidnapped them both and then raped her while drunk.  One regular was kidnapped by gangbanger and forced to try to fix one of them who'd been shot.  One regular was tortured by a former patient by being forced to put one of his hands into a vise and having it tightened.  If someone can think of a show that gave its characters a rougher time, please let me know.  :)

Paul Ryan may have just found a voting bloc that he can pander to that will ignore him.  He has gone on the record saying he supports the Federal government not interfering with states where legalized medical marijuana has been put in place.  So he supports leaving medical pot laws alone, and the people who smoke such pot wouldn't vote for him anyway.  WTG, Ryan!

Today is the 25th anniversary of the outcome of one of the dumbest things a politician has ever done.  Back in 1987, Gary Hart announced his presidential candidacy.  Immediately the rumors began swirling of his being involved in an extramarital affair.  "Follow me around.  I don't care.  I'm serious.  If anyone wants to put a tail on me, go ahead.  They'll be very bored."  The very day that "dare" appeared in print, The Miami Herald published a story about a woman, not Hart's wife, leaving his townhouse.  She turned out to be Donna Rice, more about the story including their encounter on a boat named appropriately enough Monkey Business came out and 25 years ago today, Gary Hart admitted he had been having an affair with Donna Rice. 

He'd already dropped out of the race for the nomination.  He returned to it months later, but after getting only 4% of the vote in the New Hampshire primary he dropped out for good a second time in March 1988.  A great future, ruined by daring the press.  It's an object lesson politicians today should not ignore.