Thirsty

By wrJones

I was driving to work early one morning this week when I spotted three young housewife types (yes I know this is stereotyping -  one could be a brain surgeon, the other a garbage collector, and the third a stock broker.)

So I’m thinking the world is full, that is chock full, of completely stupid people.   These three women are going to walk maybe (and his is a stretch – 10 blocks).  Do they think they will dehydrate and die in that 10 blocks without a bottle of water?   This really shows the power of propaganda.   They think their health will be ruined and they won’t be able to have those sextuplets unless they consume the bejesus out of the water.

This, of  course,  set me to reminiscing about my childhood and wondering how on earth we made it all the way to school AND back without a drop of water on us.   No plastic bottles, no canteens.  Why didn’t they find us shriveled  up like sun dried raisins  by the road side?  How on earth did we survive drinking out of those fountains.  I wonder if I can retroactively complain about the poor water service.

I really get a kick out of the new aerobics instructors with their hard won experience of sage advice.   And it is something to behold to watch the big time body builders carry around a 2 gallon jug of water from weight machine to weight  machine with a water fountain 10 steps away.

I love to watch  people put a $1.50 into a machine to get water.  These would probably be the people with credit card debt upto their ass.

This is making me thirsty  - I’ve got to go get a bottle of water out of the vending machine.

Double Wide

My body is such a mess.  Old and breaking down like this car.  Every step seems like I’m on a rutted back road; breaking down with no repair facility in site.

Hip, elbow, shoulder, knee,  you name it; there is pain.   I’m taking trying to take these football sized pills to promote joint health.  I can visualize the autopsy now.  ”Hey, Burt, look at this; the old geezer has the joints of a 12 year old.  Wonder what killed him.  Maybe it’s this boulder stuck in his throat.”

My wife is not the picture of good joint health either.   I’m on line looking for a double wide walker.  Something of the nature of those double strollers used for twins.   We will trundle down the sidewalk side by side.   I can hear her now.  ”God damn it, keep up!”   “I’m right beside you what are you talking about?”   “Well then, pick up your feet, I feel like I’m dragging a wet bale of hay!”

Donuts

Uneventful day.  Drove to grocery store.  On the way I was listening to satellite radio remembering the days of my youth when we had first only AM then AM/FM for car radios.   In those days as you travelled anywhere you would lose one station and pickup another.  It required constant twiddling on the dial  to find something worth listing to.  

Usually you could only get very local broadcasts so each new town meant a new radio station.   However, sometimes, especially at night, you could pick up a powerful broadcast from Texas (which probably had the transmitter in Mexico to sidestep power restrictions).   This station was big on education apparently.   “Get your high school diploma.  Send to H I G H   S C H O O L ….”   So I did.   I thought it was real nice of them to spell out the diploma I was getting.

I had a quasi religious experience at the grocery store.   The devil spoke to me.  He first suggested, then cajoled, then demanded I buy that package of powdered donuts.   I stood firm in my beliefs, my world view, saying, “Devil, get thee behind me.  Uh, but first could you warm up some coffee for me to have with these donuts?”