Archive for May 20, 2015




“Good morning, Chuck. It’s another cold one.”

“Cold,” he said, I’m frozen right through. I got a telephone call last night, so I turned off my de-humidifier, because of the noise it makes. After the call I forgot to turn it back on. When I woke up during the night I was freezing. I turned it back on and the next time I woke up it was better. With my asthma, I should be living in some place like Arizona. It would really help my breathing. I’d swear that we’re moving into another Ice Age, to hell with all this talk about Global Warming. I’ve been noticing it since the ’90s.

“Did I ever tell you about how the Painted Desert got it’s name?  It was during the time that the wagon trains were crossing America to get to the west. One of the wagons was carrying cans of paint that bounced out because of the bumpy trail. The cans opened up and started rolling, covering the rocks with paint as they went. Other wagons following behind saw these painted rocks, liked the look of them, so they painted more rocks as they went along. After a few hundred wagon trains the whole desert was painted. I told that to one of my friends over coffee. He asked, ‘Is that true?’ I said, ‘Of course not, you idiot.’  Can you imagine that, the guy actually believed me!”

I asked, “Is it tomorrow that Goldie has her appointment with the vet?”

“No, on the 29th she goes in for her operation. She goes in at 8:00. I’ll be using my new vehicle that day so she’ll stay nice and warm.  I’ll be down here at 8:30. I’ll have to be, I’ll need all the money I can get. I know ahead of time that it’s going to cost me a fortune.

“Last night I checked my mail and I found a Hydro bill. I could have sworn that I’d paid that. I checked my records and I hadn’t paid it. I know that my memory is bad, I didn’t think it was that bad. Just one more bill that’s hanging over my head. Sometimes, I want to go into a corner and shoot myself, get it over.

“Another thing I have to do is go for my blood tests. I hate that God damned place. They treat me like an idiot. I told them that the reason my blood count is low is because of the pills I’m taking. Do you think that they’ll change my pills? No, they’re the smart ones, they know it all.

“After my operation I was prescribed antibiotics to prevent infection. That made sense. Then they asked me if I’d be interested in participating in a group study. Half of the group would be given some new medication, the other half would be given placebos. They wanted to use me as a guinea pig. Why the hell should I take some medication, where there’s a fifty percent chance that it’ll do nothing at all. I’m already taking pills that don’t work. I don’t need to take any more.

I said, “Chuck, I have to go.”

He asked, “Tell me, in that big building where you work, do they use that cheap toilet paper? The kind that dissolves in your hand when you try to use it? It’s worse than no paper at all.”

“Bye, Chuck.”


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