This is my one hundredth blog. When a TV show does it's one hundredth episode they always call it..."A Very Special Episode". Or if some main character is going to die on the show or get married or have a baby...They call that A Very Special..............................Of course, nine times out of ten when a show has been on the air for a long time and the lead couple has a baby it either means the show is on it's way out or it certainly will have "jumped the shark" when the baby is born because babies are not funny and no one knows what to do them on a TV show. You'll notice that Raymond and his wife were barely with their kids because how could they bicker and argue and have problems in bed if the kids were around. And anyway, TV kids tend to be way too precious. You just want to smack them. They are these little kids who talk like Letterman because the writers usually write them to sound like adults. "Hey mom, I've got a top ten list. The top ten reasons why I don't want to go to school today. Ten, because Billy Franklin is going to be there and if he shows me his wiener one more time I'm going to throw up..."
I have no idea why I wrote about TV kids because I was thinking of what "Very Special" thing was going to happen for me because I am writing the one hundredth blog. And the answer is...Oh joy of joys...I'm going to get my wound cauterized today. Now isn't that special? Remember, many moons ago when I had cancer and I had this feeding tube and then they took it out? Well, that resulting damn wound has been bothering me ever since. And oh I just can't wait to get that Novocain shot in my stomach again before he pours some science fiction type stuff on the wound to YUCK, get ready for this............CLOSE IT UP. Yes, I have had a hole in my mid section for the last two or three months and to say it's not pretty is an understatement. Not that anyone is looking at my belly these days except the people I swim with and they have been very kind not to remark on it except for a little girl in the summer whose eye level was just about at my belly while we took a shower and she was mortified. There is that Frankenstein aspect and it was very hard for me not to walk, with that little girl staring at me, like Boris Karloff and grunt and lurch back to my clothes. Instead, I covered my wounds with my towel and tried to act like a normal person. But when I left I smiled at her and she ran to her mother in horror. I don't know. Kids usually like me. But I guess I usually have my shirt on when I meet them.
Oh do I wish that there was some sort of alternative something or other that could cauterize the wounds to one's heart. People always say things heal with time and I always wish that time meant five minutes or maybe eight. But it means YEARS and when you get to be my age you want every minute to count and you don't want to feel the bad stuff anymore because it's too damn tiring. And if you only have a finite amount of time left why would you want to feel the bad stuff at all...If you had the choice.
AND I CAN'T EVEN DRINK!!
Here's a tip.....Do NOT buy a French cheesecake. It looked good to me when I walked into the French Bakery and pointed out La Cheesecake and paid quite a few francs for it but then I got it home and almost the entire cake was made of whipped cream. Oh, that is so French. And maybe I'm just a fat eating Jew because I really love those deli cheesecakes that are mostly made of cream cheese. (Or is it, creamed cheese? Or is that creamed corn?)
.................I think I'm nervous about that novocain shot. That's why I'm rambling. I don't know what I'm saying anymore. And this is my one hundredth blog and it should be special. So I will leave you with this..
Did you know that in 1913 Henry Ford poineered the assembly line, Thomas Mann published Death in Venice, the first Charlie Chaplin movie was screened and Richard Nixon was born?
Now if that isn't special I don't know what is................