Regreta Carbo

So I got around to reading the side effects of the medication my nerve doctor “put me on” (I get grossed out when people say that so I use the quotes to let you know I know that no body puts me on anything without my consent – unless we are talking ‘bout Ferris wheels) and the list includes everything from your usual dizziness, tiredness, homicidal feelings, leg tingling and whatnot but I was shocked, just shocked to see carbohydrate intolerance and a feeling of being mistreated on the list. I think I have been taking this medication my whole life! Just a mis-treated chip-eater!! That’s what it all boils down to. Ever. 

Needless to say I jumped off that med train. I only like pills that party. Who would I be without pain to complain about? Just a person with a job to complain about?  All of this recent trouble makes me think about how I got in this mix in the first place (the big C) and how annoying it is that there is a TV show called The Big C.  But, I’ll leave that alone cuz there are plenty of blogs that rant about tv  - although there aren’t many that could do it with the wit, insight, and academic qualifications that I have, I choose to let the chasers chase and I will continue with my important work here. With you. Right here.

Let me tell you about the skateboarder I saw in Overton Park. The one leaning over a picnic table not far from the veterans memorial wearing a dark t-shirt and full blue jeans. Sweaty and hunched over, concentrating on something - when I got closer to him I saw that he had blood coming from both of his ears – so he was probably concentrating on not falling the f*ck over.  Concrete intolerance. Maybe I had just missed an explosion.  I was looking at him super hard, like turned off my ipod, staring, might have even opened my mouth to say something. And I walked right by - not actually saying anything even though human decency would dictate a person should acknowledge if someone is bleeding from their head, maybe even offer help.  But maybe you have never seen someone in a park with blood coming out of their ears.

Let me tell you about how older people far removed from child-rearing talk to kids. Kids that are ten or eleven – a good three years into cussing and secrets from their parents. They say “Ooooh look at you in that school uniform! What did you think when they said you were going to have to wear a jacket and tie?” and “Maybe if you are good I will let you use my automatic key lock!”  and “I’ll let you make paper airplanes if you promise not to take them to school tomorrow.”

Let me tell you about how the weather broke open and the air finally moved – transformed from a six-month old kitchen sink sponge to swiffer duster sheet and we easy-breezed it all up for 14 innings of a 16 inning game. I’ll tell you about that later. I’ve got some leftover dizziness and carbohydrate intolerance to take care of.