Meanwhile, we have entered an informal lockdown-ish, self imposed, semi-isolation mode leading up to our departure. Pam is somewhat a stickler in this regard, although she is much more relaxed than she was last time we went to Maine. I think we all have relaxed a bit, although COVID is still alive and well, lurking out there. Our pre-trip COVID tests will be next Tuesday, in compliance with Maine state requirements for incoming travelers. So, my planned trip to Mona’s yesterday had to be scrapped when both my intrepid assistant and my wife had the same reaction to my plan to smoke cigars, inside at a place with no social distance arrangements and no mask requirement, “Ok, this is about the dumbest idea you’ve ever come with.” My defense amounted to the fact that I had honestly never given the COVID implications a second thought, or even a first thought. Going to Mona’s is just something the fellas do every couple a months. Besides, the area of dumbest ideas I have ever come up with is an awfully broad field of study for such an offhand accusation! Doug Greenwood was the first to point this out...”No way. You’ve come up with lots dumber ideas than this!” Yeah, so...we decided that sitting inside, blowing tobacco smoke in each other’s faces for a couple hours probably wasn’t the ideal pre-trip routine. Yet another fine tradition laid upon the alter of this interminable pandemic.
In other news, I have been dealing with a medical issue for the past three-four weeks. It has been quite painful and troubling, and as a result, the mind begins leaping to ridiculous conclusions. Isn’t it funny how our minds so quickly jump to the worst case scenarios? Anyway, I finally went to the doctor yesterday and discovered that all is well. I do not have cancer, tumors, gall stones, kidney stones, or any of the other wild diagnosis I had come up with in my head. Instead, its something called Sacroiliiatis, a fancy term for...sore hip. A course of prednisone, 1000 milligrams of Tylenol, and wet heat for a week or two should do the trick, says my dorky, but gifted family doctor, who also opined that I probably hurt it lifting heavy boxes at Hope Thrift. The very last thing that wonderful place needs is one less volunteer, so my three weeks in Maine comes at the perfect time. I can recuperate from this hip thing while I’m there and be ready to head back to the store when I return.
Finally, I have a buddy named Tom Allen. Cool guy. U of R grad, goes to my church. He occasionally sends me hilarious stuff. Some of it I can even share with the general public! What follows was one of his best submissions. After the Mona’s thing and the collective cluelessness of my guys to it’s implications, it rings especially true!!
I don’t know about you, But I’m thinking that now might be a good time for a woman President...
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