the bus on Friday as I needed to pickup Madeline and cohorts after
practice. So, I didn't jot anything down.
At the Y though--Mike, a lawyer, in the shower, a bit older, and
another fellow were conversing. Mike was saying how he felt tired all
the time, even with being bed by nine. His doctor told him that
testosterone treatments might help, with the downside being increased
risk of prostate cancer.
Out of the shower, I commented how that was a great line that Mike had
in response to his doctor--"No thanks. I'd rather be tired than dead."
to which I added it is not so much being dead that bothers me--or
maybe it does, the concept of none existence--but rather the living
with the prostrate cancer would be a problem.
So we're both standing there naked, me just out of the shower, and he
just about to turn to the sink to start shaving. This seems
significant. And he pulls out a couple near death stories. One: a
woman told him of watching from above as a medical team worked on her
during her having a heart attack. Another: people gathered at a home
after a guy's funeral, and a floor lamp begins sparking and does so
continuously for twenty seconds before stopping. The implication
being: he was there.
So, today. Kind of a busy schedule. One item is the Quaker memorial
service for Barbara Neal. Various people get up to speak. One woman, a
neighbor, mentions another neighbor's last. A unique name, one that is
known to me from college. Sure enough. We have eventually run into
each other.
She asks "are you in the phonebook?" and I can only answer that I
think so, but am not sure. My thought was "Google me." when I got
home, I did. Some Kinda Possible, my blog shows up. (I Googled
"schons.") but also near the top of the list was
christopherschons.com. I suspect that is my nephew.
--
David
www.schons.net
