Psssst ! Shhhhh ! If anyone asks, You Don't Even Know Me.....

Be Advised.......I am going into hiding, so, if you love me, don't let them find me and take me away.


The men in the white coats, that is........


I totally lost it today, in front of witnesses, no less.   And one of the people who saw me actually beating my head against the wall (the truth is she is the one who drove me to it)  happens to be an OCD neighbor who is relentless in taking action when she decides something is amiss.  For instance, for the past 2 years or so, she has been keeping a written log of all of the hangups and/or heavy breathing phone calls she  has received (sometimes as many as 6 a day she claims) convinced that the culprit is another neighbor down the street who once  made the mistake of using a naughty word in casual conversation with her.   (No, it was not even the "F" word, but no matter.) and even more damning, he has a scraggly beard and obviously is not to be trusted.    After collecting what she felt was enough evidence ( ? ) she has finally taken necessary action and reported these offenses, verbally and  in writing (longhand) , to both the phone company and the Police, causing the totally innocent but suspicious looking (to her) neighbor to be visited and grilled by a  Detective from the Vice Squad (or Special Victims Unit or something).


After dealing with my neighbor for 40 years you would think I would have  better sense than to expose myself to the risk of being labelled "Dangerously Insane" and reported  to the Authorities.  I realize I screwed up badly this time.   I have been secretly beating my head against the wall for most of those 40 years after each encounter of unspeakable frustration with said neighbor and today I just could not restrain myself till  she left and I was safely alone.    Oh, the shame and horror of it all.  The worst part is,  there was another witness.....my caregiver, Florence, who tends to accept my madness and strange  behavior as part of the job but would find it hard to deny, under oath,  that she did, indeed, witness me muttering darkly and banging my head loudly against the kitchen corner post for at least a full minute before I regained some modicum of control.   So, if said neighbor (whom we will call "X") pursues her merciless course I am sure she can have them issue a subpoena which will force Flo to testify against me, unwilling, but helpless in the face of legal machinery grinding away........groan....

I can already visualize  the men in the white coats coming up the walk carrying cattle prods and strait jackets.  There is not a moment to lose..........I would not do well in an Asylum........I have packed Gussie and a spare T-shirt into a cat carrier and am going underground.  

I will write when it is safe.  And remember, if anyone asks, you don't even know me ........

I Could Never Top This So I Am Plagarizing

  I have been trying to think of some cheery bit to post today but have failed miserably so far.   However, the funniest post on the web  belongs to Dr. Grumpy  today so the  best favor I can do you is to send you over there.........I am still holding my sides and wiping away the tears.

Enjoy.

 

 

Great office moments

posted by Grumpy, M.D. at Doctor Grumpy in the House - 8 hours ago 

 

www.drgrumpyinthehouse.blogspot.com

NothingCheers You Up like When a Pain Goes Away

To all you faithful followers I am happy to report that the cats and I have a crawled out of the deep black pit...at least for the moment.  
Tenks Gott.

The miseries I have been suffering from this week have finally subsided and most of my gut-pains have gone away.  The same is true of my guilt and horror when I feared I had acquired Salmonella from noshing some of raw egg mixture when I was making matzoh balls for my chicken soup)  

Of course, this remission did not just happen....I had to take extreme measures (aside from lots of Pepto Bismol and  herb teas) To really effect a home cure it was requisite that I  make an appointment to see the doctor.  As soon as my innards heard that.....well......like your car when you go to the mechanic, they decided to shape up ASAP.   

......to make a long boring story much shorter, by the time I saw the doctor I was nearly well and did not even scream very loudly in protest when, after checking me out, he declared with great honesty, that he did not know for sure what was wrong with me.  ( I was thrilled when he said he doubted very much if the raw matzoh balls were the culprit and blamed it all on a probable attack of my IBS.)

But, the best part has been, with the reduction of the pain and agony, my depression has lifted.....it feels so good to not be hurting so bad that I had to banish my depression,.....at least for a little while.   

Maybe one day soon I can even publish a decent, cheery blog....keep your fingers crossed, but don't hold your breath. 

Love you all.

Does A Pill A Day Keep The White Coats Away?

As all my devoted readers must know, I have been in something of a slump lately.

I wouldn't  bet on it, but I think my melancholia began early this year when I received notice from my supplemental RX insurance that the anti-depressant I had been taking for the past several years would no longer  be covered and, if I wanted to be stubborn and keep taking it, each pill would cost me in the neighborhood of  $6.10.  Needless to say the very idea of having to pay over six dollars for a pill to un-depress me immediately depressed the hell out of me and I rushed to fling open the nearest window and scream, "Like hell I will"  or "no,, I will not! or  some such useless, wimpy protest.

After doing some research I found that the old anti-depressant I had been taking prior to this one only cost pennies per pill and, as I recalled, it had  been perfectly satisfactory until my Psychiatrist had suggested changing to this newer, supposedly improved one.   I really had not noticed any improvement in my condition one way or t'other ......hell when one tends to get depressed one gets used to  being up one day and down the next......but I had  been taking the new one obediently until this monstrous notification  arrived.

  Whereupon I decided that  bankruptcy caused  by excessive drug charges would definitely be more depressing than any change of medication.  (I no longer see the Psychiatrist, by the way,  since I deduced that he was enjoying my company and witty conversation during our sessions much more than I was benefiting from them and paying those rates to amuse HIM made no sense whatever, even to a crazy person like myself.)   I consulted my Internist and we decided to try the old medication and see how I did.   A few weeks, then a few months passed and I did not notice any ill effects so I figured I had gotten away with it.......now, I am not so sure........  however, I refuse to believe that a $6 pill will improve me enough to make it all worthwhile so I will continue to search for some other cure for this melancholy state.   Meanwhile both you and I will have to put up with this morose,uninspired and downright  boring  individual who seems to be occupying my body lately.  

Fortunately, it is  a rather mild melancholy, except when exacerbated by idiotic remarks from so-called friends.  Today, for instance, I had lunch with an old friend who has irritated me often when I happen to mention my increasing difficulty in seeing due to my macular degeneration.  I swear that if one more time she says says offhandedly, " But why can't they just give you better glasses?" I will be driven into a frenzy causing me to disembowel her with a butter knife......today was very close......instead I held my tongue and ended up with wretched indigestion because my poor system could not possibly digest even the simplest lunch along with all that restrained bile.  Either I will have to stop having lunch with her or someone will have to systematically rid the San Fernando Valley of butter knives.  (Actually, I think someone has already started on that project because one can be hard pressed to even see a hint of a butter knife anymore......,can't one?  Come to think of it.....why in the hell were butter knives even invented??????  What an idiotic waste of materials, effort, table and drawer space.  If anyone has a copy of Mrs. Beaton's, the answer is probably in  there.  In fact, if any one of you reading this  DOES have a copy I think I may have to offer some kind of reward......I personally have never seen a copy though I have heard of them and, like fairies or unicorns, do believe they may exist.....


Omigawd........I have totally lost control and am rambling wildly, aren't I?  Yes, I am......don't try to save my feelings by denying it.....


Thanks for staying with me this far.........I do prize loyalty highly. 

And, who knows.....perhaps tomorrow my melancholia will depart.......let us all hope that something  better will  be left in its place.


Luv ya' all.,

Melancholy Baby....or I Dare You to Try to Cheer Me Up

Does anyone else remember the wonderful episode of Twilight Zone in which an excruciatingly young and gorgeous Robert
Redford plays Death resplendent in a white suit?  He appears on some old lady's doorstep and she just isn't having anyof his nonsense even though it is her time and he has come to fetch her..... he has one helluva time for nearly an hour persuading her to go with him.

I remember thinking at the time how  brilliant and novel the idea of having Death represented by something/someone so deliciously attractive as a newly minted Robert Redford......breathtakingly  irresistible....instead of that tired old creature  wearing a sheet and carrying a scythe. 

 Amazingly, she managed to resist him for almost an entire hour despite my shouts of encouragement and lewd comments on her unbelievable idiocy.


I only bring up the subject  because, lately I have  been casting wistful eyes at my doorstep wondering if the same young, delicious Robert Redford is still playing that role and, if he is, where the hell is he?  Not, you understand, that I am necessarily anxious for the  Bitter End, but, after all this time of proudly proclaiming my age, I am finding that there is a huge difference between "going on 85" and actually becoming 85.....a situation I dolefully face this coming Tuesday.  No, no....never mind the messages of congratulation and the good wishes etc............I am too busy trying to figure out how the hell this could be happening to me.   I actually never planned to live   beyond the age of 72 because I could simply not imagine myself coping with writing letters, reports or checks dated anything  beyond 1999.........and, to be honest, it has not  been easy.    Occasionally, when my mind wanders, I find myself on the verge of writing March 12, 1933 as I recall laboriously scratching out that date at the top of a test paper in the 2nd grade at the
William Cullen Bryant Elementary School (corner of 60th St. and Cedar Ave in good old West Philly).


This entire train of thought was inspired, indulged and egged on by a fabulous post by one of my favorite Bloggers, the incomparable Mary of MurrMurrs, who did a fascinating treatise on
Adolph Hitler's parents, his ultimate fate (maybe ) and some unusual burial and cemetery customs in foreign countries.  I loved the blog except for the part mentioning Hitler whose name brings back wretched memories of the Big War in which I lost  friends and participated, in my small way, as an Air Raid Warden Messenger during real or practice Air Raids which happened periodically.  (I probably am one of the few readers to whom Hitler is not merely an abstract historical figure.)  I recall, like it was yesterday,  things like ration stamps and blackout curtains and the air raid sirens and patrolling the pitch black neighborhoods with my Air Raid Warden with a mixture of excitement and dread.  We each had a gas mask hanging from a strap on our shoulder (probably left overs from World War I) and a special whistle around our necks....I am  not sure what that was for or what good that would have done at all....and possibly a metal helmet...also leftover from WWI. I felt  freaky, scared and proud, I am not sure in what order.


However, my very favorite memory was of the night I finally got up the courage to ask the question which had been bothering me since we first began these patrols. (There was probably some sort of indoctrination given when we first volunteered, but I swear I do not remember it at all)  One especially dark night I cleared my throat nervously and asked him the big question.........


"If one of these happens to be a real Air Raid, how will we know and what are we supposed to do?"


I will never forget the way he looked down at me for a few moments with half a smile before he sighed and answered , ".......Damned if I know."

The Bozzettos and Lo

Who? Me?

    Akannie of  Elegant Blessings has honored me with the Kreative Blogger award.  As usual, I am flustered and utterly flummoxed..........and so appreciative.

It seems I have to confess 7 secret or as yet unconfessed things about myself and then nominate some worthy recipients.

Confessing is easy.....I really have no secrets....remembering what I have already revealed and what I haven't is the hard part, but I will do my best.  And, of course, selecting whom to honor is the most difficult because I consider all my bloggy pals  to be deserving since they are all so superior in every way.

OK.....here we go with things you may have not  suspected or possibly never guessed about me.

1.Once on my way to a Saturday art class in Fairmount Park I got lost and at one point had to take down my bloomers and pee behind some bushes.

2. When I was 14 I got the chance to meet Frank Sinatra in a record  store that was promoting his record, "I'll Never 
Smile Again" and I was so transported with awe that I shook his hand with only 3 fingers and realized later (to my horror) that my pinkie and ring finger were still glued to my palm tightly clutching the 50 cents I was holding to buy his record.


3. All obsessive-compulsive clean-niks had better avoid me because I am something of a slob and do not consider a bit of dirt either a sin or a vice.  By me cleanliness is not next to godliness and definitely has a much lower priority....though I DO bathe occasionally.


4. I have been told that, in my prime, I was a great kisser.  I did luv kissin'.

5. To my great shame, I have never been able to overcome the character flaw of despising stupid people...to my credit I have never physically harmed one of them despite great provocation.......and there are so many.....sigh.


6. There have been many times, during various diets when I would have gladly sold my body for a bagel.  (maybe I even did but you would think I would remember that, wouldn't you?)


7.Despite my pretensions as a Gourmet, if I were doomed to have to eat the same appetizer daily for the rest of my life it would be a tossup between onion dip with raw broccoli spears or a really good salsa with fresh corn chips.  A close third would be a spinach and cheese stufffed, grilled portabello mushroom.


And now for the hard....nay...excruciatingly difficult and near impossible part.  How can I choose 7 out of the myriad of marvelous bloggers I enjoy.  Some of my dearest are already renowned stars of the Blog World and hardly have room on their bods to pin another medal so I will just throw a grateful kiss to Mary Moon and Mary of Murrmurrs and Mr. London Street and nominate some other stars whose delights you may not yet know.
.....oh, God......only 7........sob.

Fur-licity 
Cloud Cuckoo Land  
Life Unexpectedly
The Sassy Curmudgeon
Pearl, Why You Little...
Troutbirder

Roy's World



Bless all of you for amusing me, astounding me and just plain pleasing me.


I must add a footnote to this blog to say that I am so grateful to AKannie for this award and hope it cheers my chosen recipients as much as it did me.  

I apologize for not providing links.  Maybelline bless her, tried to teach me how to do it and I did try several different ways.....still haven't got the knack yet.