i A Time and a Place...: Jam Session Again...

Sunday, February 04, 2007

Jam Session Again...

Well, yesterday was jam session time again. But, as fate would have it, neither Donna nor I made the scene. My niece called and told us her dad (my brother) was ill (she feared a stroke) and she was taking him to a hospital in Redding so, being relative oriented, we called and bowed out of the session and drove to Redding to check on my brother. He's only 80 but has been acting a bit old of late.

We got to the hospital forthwith and, after haranguing the receptionist (she says only one at a time can visit a patient) I went to his room and talked to him for a time. He appeared confused and slurred his words and drooled some so, naturally, I wondered what was wrong, why he was here. He seemed normal to me, just as he always is.

Then a nurse came in to draw blood. I had to wrestle her and shout at the top of my lungs (mostly the right one, of which the 'top', is about 4' from the floor) to convince her I was not the patient and my brother was not just taking a nap because he was tired of visiting me.
She finally saw the light and told me I had to work out some and get in better shape (and stay away from hospitals) so this mistake wouldn't happen again. That really offended me and I assured her that I do work out regularly, probably too much, and proved it to her by showing her how tired my right hand was, especially my pointing finger, from clicking that stupid mouse so much. She acknowledged this pertinent fact by saying emphatically, "Yeah,-right!"

Anyhow, she drew the blood and I remember awaking on the floor with someone slapping my face and saying, "Wake the hell up!" I guess seeing the blood made me sleepy and I inadvertently took a short nap. (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)

Well, as it turned out, after performing a cat scan on him (a tabby) the doctor and the entire staff swore there was nothing wrong with him and paid my niece (his daughter) three dollars to take him home. And we (Donna and I) came home.

After we got home and I beat the crap out of Donna (playing old folks shuffleboard-I always beat her because I am a better shuffler than is she) we got a call from (or Donna called her) one of the jammers, a lady friend named Loretta. Donna told her about my brother and why we didn't go to the jam session and Loretta said we missed out on the real excitement.

Evidently an obnoxious jam sessioner complained about Loretta talking too much while the music was being played and she took somewhat of an offense to his obnoxiousness and told him he shouldn't grouse at her because of her bad temper from her German ancestral heritage and she commented about his canine ancestral heritage and that somewhat peed him off and so he proceeded to shake his pointing finger in her face until she snapped (literally). That must have did it because, after doing a short, animated dance and shouting some choice, descriptive words, he took the rest of his fingers (the ones still attached to that hand), gathered up the other one, wrapped it in a tissue and left in a huff, probably headed for the same hospital where Donna and I had been earlier.

Well, that's the long and the short of it. All in all, yesterday was a somewhat productive day, not unlike other days we have experienced recently, as we approach middle age with it's bountiful rewards.

They (whoever, 'they', are) say the older years are the Golden Years. I can believe that if 'they' mean it takes all your gold to just squeak by each day.

I can't wait to begin experiencing the joys of my 'Golden' years. I am just barely seventy one years of age and am anxiously awaiting my eightieth plus years when I, too, can drool, act confused and slur my words and still understand nothing is wrong with me.
When that happens for the first time, I won't bother anyone to take me to any hospital,- I'll just stick out my thumb and hitch hike to Redding and go to that same hospital where, yesterday, I made so many friends!

On second thought, maybe I'll have Donna take me and attempt to check me in. By then I'm sure we will really need the three dollars!



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