Wednesday, March 21, 2001:
Feeling : Hopeful, and a little lost.
Hat-less Bald Man Index : 26 (+5).
My brothers love : the
video games!
In related news : Some Dumpy
Asian buys
the ENTIRE Yellow
Nation!
YEAR 2001, A.M.
He had this old hand-held transistor radio by his bed. Bound in a black leather carrying case, the kind with individual holes punched out over the speaker panel. Crackly serious voices emanated forth.
"Is that your radio?" I asked, one facial contraction from laughing.
"Oh yeah, hi doc," he said back.
Picture an Obi Wan (or Sir Alec Guinness) who’s let himself go, is much happier (or slightly drunk), and in a plaid bath robe. That was Mr. Guinness here.
"Are you listening to … A.M. radio??" I ask, quaintly amused.
I already knew he was. A.M. sounds different … more crackly, echoic, ghostly. I was half expecting to hear a broadcast from the 1950s (just like so many movie plots of late).
We often ask our more confused patients what year/day/location this is to see how oriented they are. Often times, they are decades off. I am tickled at the thought of some of them having these old fashioned radios that are broadcasting as if it really were 1950 again. In 1950, Mr. Guinness here would still be older than I am now.
If and when my mind goes, who knows what year I’ll be stuck in. Would it be this one? Will I see 21 year old Korean pop singers in blue pleather skirts singing happy dance tunes that I can’t even understand?
Or my lovingly drawn femininjas in stark black-white contrast posing in their various contemplative or amused weapon-wielding moods.
Or my Amy, breathing gently like a cat next to me, nude and supple in Sunday afternoon light.
I hope so, to all of the above. I'm painting the walls of my future mental prison as we speak. We don’t want to leave our dementia to chance.
Then my very non-demented Mr. Guinness brings me back from the future.
"Politicians, you can’t trust ‘em. Talk out of this end of their mouth, and say another thing out of this end. I don’t know which end to watch…." he goes on and on,
"At least in your job, you can do some good. You can talk straight," he finishes … finally … I do have other patients to see this week.
"Yeah ... okay, forty-two days. That’s how long you need these antibiotics, then you’ll be as good as new," I tell him.
Forty two days. I can’t even say some of my patients will live that long. But in his case, I can tell him straight. I think he’ll be fine. He already looks great, in fact. Maybe a bit leathery and worn around the edges and crackly though.
Like his A.M. radio.
YOU CAN CALL ME "NEO"
I can hardly believe it. In less than two weeks, Amy and I will be in Seoul, Korea. Last time was fun but I had the burden of worrying about my upcoming Medical Boards among other residency requirements two years ago. It was certainly an escape, but with much dread in the background.
This time there will be no limits, as Amy says, meaning she’s going to shop like President G. W. Ass-in-mouth just pushed his big red Nuke-the-Gook button.
We might even buy some of that ornate Korean furniture for our new house as well. You know, the kind with the big brassy hinges and emblems and such. Some cute little wall hangings. Amy's buying all the clothes she wants ... the kind with that "crayjee styla" (that's "crazy style" to all you who don't understand native Korean accents). I’m buying all the K-pop CD’s I can’t get here as well.
The good and bad news is that we have to close on our house this week apparently, but
I don’t think we’ll be moving in until after we get back in April.Work has been rather time-consuming but fun as well. I have the pleasure to work with the residents and students again this month (some months it’s just ME, no fun). And I’ve been spending more time reading (medical-related), learning, and teaching lately. Which is actually quite satisfying.
Haven’t drawn much or updated though.
I’m gearing up for our Korea trip. Although not in the same way Amy is. I’m trying to practice my Tekken Tag moves (it was the popular game 2 years ago at least). I can now identify any member of my favorite bands by their mouth alone (sometimes they wear lowered baseball caps to hide their eyes). I’ve even finished tape 1 of my Barron’s Korean Language Set. Just 11 more tapes to go! Sigh.
At least I can say, "I am learning Korean" now. One of my medical students taught me how to say, "I’m so tired I could just DIE!" in Korean. He’s Korean himself, and was post-call (and so tired he could just die, apparently) when he told me that of course.
Now I just need to learn how to say :
"I am a famous American movie star … have you ever seen The Matrix?"
Free Tarot Readings
and a whole lot of interesting personal things ... Hi Jennifer!
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