Drivel Over Coffee #252 2/10/2015

“The secret of a good sermon is to have a good beginning and a good ending;
and to have the two as close together as possible.”
- George Burns

Hi everyone. Is this a great country or what? Wait, don't answer that just yet until you read this. I was reminded by a friend of Medicare Part G. I had forgotten all about this. It is called the unknown benefit because very few people know about it. Here it is in a nutshell.

Say you're an older senior citizen and can no longer take care of yourself. You have little or no family to help. You turn to the government but the government says there's no Nursing Home care available for you. So, what do you do? You opt for Medicare Part G.

Our plan gives anyone 65 years or older a gun (Part G) and four bullets. You are allowed to shoot four politicians. This means, of course, that you'll be sent to prison where you'll receive three meals a day, a roof over your head, central heating & air conditioning, cable TV, library, and all the Health Care you need. Need new teeth? No problem. Need glasses? That's great. Need a hearing aid, new hip, knees, kidney, lungs, sex change, or heart? They're all covered. As an added bonus, your kids can come and visit you at least as often as they do now!

And, who will be paying for all of this? The same government that just told you they can't afford for you to go into a home. And....you can get rid of 4 useless politicians while you're at it. And now, because you're a prisoner, you don't have to pay any more income taxes. Now that we've solved your senior financial planning, enjoy the rest of your week.....

So on Friday, my current wife, Debby the younger and I jump in the car at 5:20 am and head to Iowa City. I had an appointment at the VA to have a procedure performed on a vocal cord. The instructions were to be there by 6:00 am. We arrived at the designated spot at 6:00 am on the nose as were another couple. As it turns out, we beat the staff into work. Fifteen minutes later people started ambling in one by one. By about 7:00 the operating unit seemed to be springing to life finally. I made it through the procedure and was sent on my way.

I have been reflecting on this experience as it was my first one with them. Overall, it was fine. Just not quite as fine as a regular hospital. No frills except my going away presents of a 32 oz. Water mug and a pair of compression socks. They stuck this rod down my throat. It had a small flashlight, camera and side-cutter pliers duct taped to the rod. I was later told that a number of pieces of surgical thread were attached to critical points so that they could operate the devices. The USB cable attached to the camera was a bit bulky and hard to swallow. Don't remember much after that as the anesthesia started to take effect. It was my understanding that the side-cutter pliers worked great for excising the growths but getting the tissue samples removed turned out to be a problem I guess. They said also that next time they will not use side-cutters with the non-slip rubber grips. They were horrible when pulling this stuff out I guess. This stuff must be the reason my throat and mouth feel like they had been mugged by five drunken Russian sailors. I requested copies of the photos they took. I swear I think they were photo-shopped.

Some dog I got. We gave Murphy a nickname. We call him Egypt because in every room, he leaves a pyramid. Last night he went on the paper four times - three of those times I was reading it. He continues to grow. He is now about 12 lbs. And is 4 ½ months old. His interests are gradually changing for the better. For instance, His favorite bone was my arm but now infatuated with the cushions on the couch. He is in week 5 of puppy pre-school. Not really sure if he is learning anything or not.

I got measured for my wedding togs last week. It was harmless enough except that the gal who was measuring would take a measurement like my waist for instance. She would read her tape and say in not the most quite voice – “72 inches, does that sound right?” “Ugh, yup I guess.” I responded. With each additional measurement, the punch to the ego hurt more. I'm so ugly, I once worked in a pet shop, and people kept asking how big I'd get. When I got home I started doing research on the latest diets available out there. I ran across one that has some promise. Now it isn't the easiest thing to stay on but the rewards are enormous. It is kind like a “cloud” in the computer world. I call it the “Air Diet”. No food actually passes through your lips. You instead get nourishment from smelling and sniffing food. I know, I know, I was skeptical too.

It's already been a rough day on my “Air Diet”. I got up this morning, smelled my breakfast and put a shirt on and a button fell off. I picked up my briefcase, and the handle came off. Now I'm afraid to go to the bathroom.

I stopped at my favorite watering hole after a hard day to relax. I noticed a man sitting next to me ordered a shot and a beer. This guy drank the shot, chased it with the beer and then looked into his shirt pocket. He continued this several times before my curiosity got the best of me. I looked in my shirt pocket and had nothing. I leaned over to the guy and said, "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your little ritual, why in the world do you look into your shirt pocket every time you drink your shot & beer"? He replied, "There's a picture of my wife in there, and when she starts lookin' good, I'm headin' home"! That reminds me my anniversary is coming up this month. My current marriage is on the plus side of 40 now as is the current wife. Better get a card.

And finally..... I was reminded the other day when talking to MacBlu, my neighbor, of an incident that happened last summer that we just roared over. I was in my yard mowing the grass here on Hysteria Lane when my blonde neighbor came out of the house and went straight to the mailbox. She opened it then slammed it shut stormed back in the house. A little later she came out of her house again went to the mail box and again opened it, slammed it shut again. Angrily, back into the house she went. Just as I was getting ready to edge the lawn, she came out again, marched to the mailbox, opened it and then slammed it closed harder than ever. Being completely befuddled by her actions I strolled over and asked her, "Is something wrong?" To which she replied, "There certainly is!" My stupid new computer keeps saying, "You've Got Mail."

Remember, there is no need to thank me for this valuable information: I'm doing it as a public service. (Refer back to the story above). Now, until we meet again. -TA!