A Master Curmudgeon

No hospital stay story is complete without some sort of roommate angle, and mine was truly inspirational.  I was next to a 90-year-old first-class cantankerous complainer whose hearing-aid batteries were shot.  Did I, convalescing as I was, despair?  Of course not!  I couldn't take notes fast enough.

You couldn't make this stuff up.  "Why isn't my wife here - she knows she has to pick me up."  Well, Dad, she's home dressing that open wound on her leg.  "She should be here to pick me up!"  Stuff like this went on for what seemed like hours, and I heard each exchange at least three times (the combined effects of the 90-year-old part, the proper level of shouting to overcome the dead battery, and a true genius at curmudgeonry).

Alas, he was gone before I could ask if his curmudgeonry was a gift or he trained somewhere - he was a master.  I want him as a speaker at the next Societé Generale meeting.

Hospital Food

We hear a LOT of whining from recently-released hospital patients about the food.  "Inedible"! "Every dish was gray" "typically institutional" and the like.  And, being such a critical matter, it often comes up before the quality of, oh I don't know, the actual health care.

I, on the other hand, was most impressed with the food service during my recent stay - prompt, delivered to you, just what you ordered by circling whatever meal menu options you chose, and magically cleared away with no muss, no fuss, and no dishes to do.  Not gray.  Grilled chicken breast Caesar salad.  Hamburgers.  Ice cream.  Good stuff.

Frankly, I liked the "gets delivered, you eat, it goes away" bit.  I'm going to ask my Sainted wife to try this system here at home.

Modern Medicine

When one goes to the hospital to have something REMOVED, one generally does not expect to come out looking like Martin Short as Jiminy Glick.  But, in a nutshell, this is essentially what happened to me this week.

Yes, dear readers, your curmudgeon had an emergency appendectomy this week.  Using modern laparoscopic methods, snip, snip and we were done.  Oddly, that also means three scars rather than one, but apparently that, too, is the modern way.

But, to my point - it turns out that the biggest issue in recovery was NOT pain management and the like, but GAS management!  It was like they inflated me to check for leaks or something.  And no Gas-X to get rid of it - oh,no - "walk it out."

Modern medicine: may the gas be with you!

Hot Off The Press

Goodness knows why we, in a quiet - and small - New Jersey town have a local paper, but we do.  It captures all manner of late-breaking town news, as long as you like publicly-available town meeting minutes.  But its key feature is the "Police Blotter."  This is where we retired people, desperate for any salacious news, get our fix of who's been arrested for what.

"Patrolman (pick a name you've never heard), pulled over a vehicle with an expired inspection sticker only to find drug paraphernalia" and the like.  "He was processed and released into the custody of a family member."  This is greatness in local news!  Who cares if councilman X asked how we're going to afford paving the town fields with AstroTurf or why councilwoman Y wants senior parking for the Farmer's Market - what cool crimes did our crack police force thwart?

To my dismay, our local rag just discontinued the Police Blotter.  What is a nosy retired curmudgeon to do?

Greatness by Putting Yourself Out of Business

You may not be aware of this, but Dentists should be viewed as selfless heroes.  They are furiously trying to put themselves out of business.  They have been for years - getting fluoride in water, improving preventative care, etc.  And theirs isn't the only occupation that behaves like this. 

I recently had a procedure that went so well I told the doctor he was too good - he was going to put himself out of business.  He said he has to try to put himself out of business - if he doesn't, someone else will.  That statement pretty much captured the essence of the stunning success of capitalism.

This, of course, is the complete opposite of how government employees work.

It's a Fork, Not a Shovel

Have you WATCHED how people around you eat in public?  Is it possible so many people haven't a clue about how to hold their utensils?  I hate to be the bearer of bad news (that's a Cassandra, not a Curmudgeon) but there is little that makes a person look stupider than not holding silverware properly.

Yes, pajama pants and tattoos make you look pretty stupid, but I see this ape-like handling of utensils far too often.  And I find it way scarier when a father is out with his family and HE is the offender, too backward to realize he is busily training a new generation to eat like Neanderthals.  

And much to my chagrin, I've seen it on TV - some bonehead films a kid in a commercial holding his spoon as if it's the first time he's ever used one because the director thinks it's says "cute."  News flash: it doesn't. 

It says "look at me!  I was brought up poorly!  Keep watching and I will chew with my mouth open, too!"  Yes, dear readers, it can even get worse.

Joan (Groan) Crawford

By now, surely you know I am an old movie fan.  Actually, you know I have rarely met a movie - old or new - that I didn't like, as long as it wasn't a musical, vampire movie, post-apocalyptic movie, etc. (as I've mentioned in the past).  But ANY movie that includes Joan Crawford deserves special mention and a place in the pantheon of terrible movies, which, of course, considering they include Joan Crawford, are old as well.

The eyebrows and eyelashes alone are enough to turn normal humans into mass murderers, but add the copiously applied lipstick and the overacting and her movies become a danger to society at large.

The scariest part is that she was HUGELY popular...with the very people we call "the greatest generation."

Be afraid, be very afraid.

Shipping & Handling

I recently ran across an old bill for something I had ordered by mail.  It was a $29.95 item from Heathkit (the go-to place for nerd do-it-yourself electronics), but my point here is the Shipping & Handling was $1.58.  Yes, you read that right: $1.58.  

Granted, it was purchased in 1980 and times were different.  Different in that Shipping & Handling was actually the cost of Shipping & Handling, rather than a fee created out of thin air, as it is today.

Today, the fee often pays for that $19.99 special whatsis you just got from an advertisement on TV, leaving the $19.99 as sheer profit.  A second one free, just pay S&H?  Right.  I'll believe that when the second one is $1.58.

The National Economic Scene

I had one of my periodic breakfasts with my friend Tom, the Economist.  He likes to expound upon our nation's economic situation and such, which essentially means he never makes a particle of sense.

Economists are an odd bunch - they actually believe that their field is a science when we all know that it's a bunch of made-up words to make them sound smart, to make economics seem very complicated, and to make it impossible to explain anything to normal people.  This is so that when everything goes down the toilet - as it inevitably does - their explanation is lengthy, full of jargon that SOUNDS impressive, while all along they are really as clueless as the rest of us.

When Tom gets going, throwing terms like  "hurdle rates" and "EVA" at me in the middle of otherwise innocent declarative sentences, I just get a headache.

Mercifully, these breakfasts are rare.

Rain - What, Me Worry?

On my first business trip to Southern California (this would, of course, be many years ago) I was thrilled to escape the wintry mess here in NJ - snow, black ice and really tedious driving.  SoCal, of course, was warm and sunny - no slush, no skidding on ice sheets - a real dream.

Hah!  The next morning, there was a little rain, and the news was going nuts over car accidents all over the place.  I was floored - I had just come from roads that were snow-covered and demanded the greatest skills to navigate and these idiots couldn't deal with a little rain!  WTF??, to use the vernacular.

Turns out, it rains so infrequently there that road dust and oils turn to grease when they first get wet, making the roads quite treacherous when it rains.  So, do they know enough to be careful all these years later?  Of course not!  An alert reader has just informed me that they drive like idiots still, trucks jackknifing, accidents galore EVERY TIME IT RAINS.

Back in a Minute

I'm sure you've encountered one of these "Back in 20 Minutes" signs hanging on the door of someplace you wanted to get into while out shopping.  Do these things annoy you as much as they do me?  20 minutes from WHEN?  Is that 20 minutes perhaps almost over?  Do you wait?

The shopkeeper took the time to put a sign up that tells you virtually nothing.  And many of these signs are purchased!  Some brainiac actually thought these worthless things up!  At least there is hope - someone smarter came up with the clock sign that says WHEN they'll be back.

There ought to be a law.

A Curmudgeon's Christmas Letter

It has recently come to my attention that a caring father made public a smashing Christmas letter he sent to his grown (married with children of their own) children.   

The gist was "I would prefer not to hear from you again, unless you have a success or accomplishment to share.  Your Mother and I have had enough of you bringing us down by complaining about your problems, failures, and general inability to take what we gave you and make a life of your own."

Being British, he had a nicer way of saying it all, but a curmudgeon cannot help but admire his courageous stand.  http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/9686219/I-am-bitterly-bitterly-disappointed-retired-naval-officers-email-to-children-in-full.html will fill you in on the delicious details.

I'm going to recruit that man into our Societé!