I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on TV

I went to the doctor this week for my annual prescription update and blood work. Or as I like to call it fun with chemistry. I current consume three prescription pills a day along with a 81mg aspirin and multi vitamin. I had a message from my doctor on my answering machine Wednesday night telling me to call her on Monday when she will be back in the office to discuss my blood work results. I'll take that as a sign that there isn't any to serious with the results, but I'm sure she will want me to go for more blood tests because something is just not right.

Maybe it is me but with all the advancement in medical science I still think I had better care back when I was a kid. Today I go to a office that has several doctors although I never see any of them except my own. There is a toll collector as you enter the office that greets you and takes your co-payment that allows you to sit in the waiting room. There are a few other folks there working at computers that I'm sure their main task is to communicate with the insurance companies. I tend to make early appointments, just as they open and before the sick people get there, so I can get in and out quickly. A nurse with a lap top in hand calls my name and she pleasantly asks why I'm there as she checks my pulse, blood pressure, and weight. She then brings me into a examination room where I wait for the doctor to arrive with her lap top in hand.
The doctor again pleasantly, says "It has been a while since I have seen you." My reply "I have been pretty health this year", but I am thinking to myself hmmm she must be looking for another boat payment. We exchange a few words, she listens to my heart and lungs and keys in my prescriptions into her lap top. She peers over the top of her screen as says "We do not have a cardiograph on file for you, do you mind if we do one?" I reply sure. She leaves the room and the nurse reappears with my prescriptions and the cardiograph machine. The nurse hooks me up to the machine and says "You are perfectly normal." My reply " There is nothing normal about me." She unplugs me and tells me to get dressed and do I know the way out. I tell her I'll find my way out.

Now lets go back say 35 to 40 years or more. We had a family doctor back then who lived in the same town as we did. He was the old fashion general practitioner. He ran his practice by himself. He was the doctor my mother went to when my sister and I was born. I remember my mother telling the story of the Sunday afternoon when I was born and the doctor running into the hospital with a dirt covered sweatshirt because he was working in his garden that fall day. When you went to his office you would show up in his waiting room and take a seat. Some people had appointments some did not. He keep everyone moving and slipped the no appointment folks in. My Dad would often be one of the no appointment folk that he slipped in, but that is a story for another day. Once you were called from the waiting room into the back you had top billing. One examination room, no waiting, do not take a number, you are the center of attention. After your visit you sat at a desk while the doctor filled out some paper work and proclaimed OK we will see you next time and I'll send a bill for today. Which I remember to be the sum of $8.00 for a office visit.

I know I am dating myself here but I remember being sick and home from school, both Mom and Dad working, and having the doctor stop by the house to check on me. That was when we didn't lock the side door to the house, we didn't start locking the door until I was about 15 years old.

Today's doctors may have more skill and training but I still have not found one I trust more than the first doctor I had back in Valley Stream. I may be a little prejudice but old Doc Hennighan's quick hands saved me from being a blue baby on the day I entered this world with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck twice. Maybe that's why I like a dramatic entrance.

Forgot my banjo

Back from a business trip to Alabama and we had the extra enjoyment of landing in a snow storm Friday. My flights were on time and not canceled so I consider myself very lucky. It did take about the same time to drive home from the airport as it did to fly from Baltimore to Manchester, NH. So after 4 days on the road and arriving home at dinner time the only thing to do was stop for Chinese take out.

The folks in the south are always fun to be around. I feel comfortable when I'm in the south. When we finished our inventory work for the day on Wednesday I proclaimed " Stick the fork in Mildred it's done". One of the gentleman I was working with who knew I was from MA said "You must have been born in the south". To which I replied "Nope, I was born in New York", and we had a good laugh. I agree with the Phil Harris song "That's What I Like About The South"

As I was digging out my vehicles this morning, from the blanket of snow that covered them, my thoughts returned to Dreamland's ribs, red maples blooming, fried chicken, and 68 degrees.

Roll Tide

Come on spring

Big Trucks

Here are a few photos from "The Party in the Pits" from the Monster Jam show. This the the fourth show we have had the good fortune to witness. Big, colorful, loud trucks crashing cars and flying in the air. What more could you ask for. I have to give kudos to Live Nation the company that runs Monster Jam and to the drivers. In this day of ridiculously high admission prices to major sporting events, Monster Jam remains a true value. Five dollars for kids under 12, pretty good for a couple of hours of entertainment. Sure there is the shirts and hats and year books to buy but you can not get into a movie for five dollars.

The drivers are very good with the kids also. Signing yearbooks, taking photos and talking to all their fans at the party in the pits before one show at each venue they appear at. The prima donnas in the NFL, MLB, NBA need to take some lessons.

After we returned to our seats we had time to get some lunch before the show started. Typical arena fare with no place to put anything except your lap. Which was the reason I used a one time use camera for these photos. I didn't want to juggle the SLR, lunch, etc. Get a small digital I hear you saying into your computer screen as you read this. Some day I'll get there. I'll have to bug Neil again for his expert advise on my saunter down the digital path.

Back to lunch. I made a point to tell Noah let's tuck a napkin in your new Graver Digger shirt so you don't get any honey mustard on your shirt. He's all set enjoying his lunch not a drop on his shirt. I take the first bite of my hamburger and deposit a perfect red bull's eye of ketchup on my shirt. As I'm cleaning up my shirt all I can think is how did Ward Cleaver always have a perfectly pressed suit?

Jumping in with both feet.

Here we go in the blog world. What's another babbling fool going to hurt? As for the title, TR is a bigger than life figure to me. We share a birthday. Reading about his love for the outdoors helped guide me to attend forestry college and obtain a BS in Forestry. Just one look at our choices for the highest office in the land and I yearn for TR's character, spunk, and his belief in doing the right thing even if it was not the most popular thing. So with that said what really pushed me into starting this little journey was how I spend last weekend.

I picked up my nine year old son, Noah, on Saturday morning and drove to the Hartford Civic Center (now named the XL Center, which since I'm out of the loop on current marketing have no idea what XL is except the size of shirts that I wear) to watch one of life's simply pleasures. A Monster Truck show! What's not to like 1500 horsepower trucks with 5' tall wheels and no mufflers. We had a ball. I'll post some photos as soon as I get the film developed. Yes I still shoot film.

Now most of you are thinking why would that get anyone starting into the blog world. Ah there's Sunday.

Noah sings in the Choir at St Michael's Cathedral in Springfield, MA and Sunday he was singing at the Diocese of Springfield's Rite of Election. Which I learned is a ceremony that people wanting to join the Church must go through before becoming members. This takes the place of the normal way of your parents having you baptized etc. The choir sounded great and sang an African-American Spiritual which remained me of driving by Baptist churches in Georgia.

As I was sitting there it hit me, Saturday Monster Trucks and Sunday Rite of Election ceremony. From Grave Digger to Cathedral in 24 hours. What a long strange trip it's been.....