PROBLEMS, PROBLEMS, PROBLEMS.

I haven't posted for awhile. Nothing has gotten my dander up, and my reminiscences of Finland haven't been much of a hit (Though they are likely to come back again, as will the stories of my childhood). I sat for an hour today and read about anguished sex lives and anguished lack of sex lives, and terrible jobs and terrible job markets found in many blogs and decided that no matter how it gripes me sometimes seventy plus isn't all bad. My worst problems become whether I will make it to the restaurant restroom without peeing my pants (or at least without doing it visibly), actually the strong corollary to that is will I make it to the restroom in the highway service station without baptizing their floor ; Should I send a birthday card to an old friend because I remember that its his birthday, but I can't remember what in the living hell his name is; If I succeed in getting to sleep tonight without any major pains waking me up, will I sleep so soundly that I sleep through my eleven o'clock dentist appointment? Should I keep paying the damn dentist to maintain my teeth when a bunch of those teeth are already gone and I will probably be gone before the rest of them wear out.

A nurse called me the other day because Blue Cross has put me on a list of folks who might be subject to congestive heart disease, and somehow Blue Cross has figured that they can save money if they can keep you from getting whatever congestive heart disease is , for a little while.

As a result of their interest I listed my medications, my indications, my limitations, my irritations and everything else she could think to ask me about. When she was finished I reflected that if I had a car with that many flaws, and was costing that much for upkeep I would quickly determine that the old buggy wasn't worth the upkeep and junk it.

OOps, maybe I shouldn't get into that. After all, thanks to God, the Georgia Teacher Retirement System, Medicare, Social Security, a bit of savings, The State University Medical program and the ability to make and sell a few puppets and one of a kind dolls, along with presenting the occasional children's workshop in Puppetry or Theatre, I can still afford the upkeep on this old crate. Which gives me an idea for a future blog. I have a 93 Dodge Caravan that has a story of destructive repair that is incredible. Johnny Carson once said that a boat is a hole in the water into which you pour money. I am currently a hole on dry land into which I pour money (see above) and that damnable Dodge is my hole on the highway into which I pour money.