Need A Doctor: Eeny Meeny Miny Moe

It finally happened.  My General Practitioner announced he was terminating our almost twenty year relationship due to his advancing age and creeping technophobia.  If he stayed in practice he was going to have to replace his fax machine AND have to buy his first computer.  I’m convinced his decision to retire was due to all the new “paperless” reporting requirements of Obamacare, Medicare, prescription and insurance billing . . . and had nothing to do with him being my age or the fact my file was fully 9” thick and he couldn't lift it anymore.

For old time’s sake, my Dr. Dough was kind enough to provide a list of potential new physicians who just might accept new patients.  Several on the list were affiliated with Doctors' Dynasty Amalgamated.  Since my BBL played this game of finding a new GP a couple of years ago and ended up at this place with a Dr. Kwo (a young female equivalent of Doogie Howser).  No chance of her retiring in our lifetime! I thought I would take this shortcut, even though Kwo wasn’t on the list.

On Monday I called for an appointment and explained to the receptionist my extremely close relationship to one of Kwo’s patients.  She checked and said the good doctor would accept a new patient, and yes, she would accept Medicare.  “Oh, and she has an opening this Thursday morning approximately 72 hours from now!”  All good!

I showed up at the appointed hour (actually an hour before the appointed hour because a new patient must sign their name on at least six different sheets of paper(!)).  Then:  “You must be mistaken, sir. You are supposed to see Dr. Bo.”  I’m mistaken?  Neither I nor my BBL had ever heard of Dr. Bo.  But I can be flexible (once in a while) and decide to see this Dr. Bo even before the receptionist tells me how nice and caring she is.

While sitting in waiting room #4 (yes 4!), I look through my papers and review again the list of doctors my Doctor had sent me.  Among the list of those associated with Doctors' Dynasty Amalgamated was Dr. Vo (a now obvious typographical error).

When I’m face to face with her, I explain to Dr. Bo how Fate has meant us to be together.

And that my visit has absolutely nothing to do with my toe.

It’s A Grand Day To Be A Father

My 36^th Father’s Day is approaching and it is unlike any that have come before.

What is the same, albeit perhaps a tad stronger, is the pride I have in the quality individuals my children have always been and how they have matured into intelligent responsible adults.  I do not take credit for this.  I have never thought of myself as a great Dad, just someone who was fortunate to be married to one of the world’s greatest Moms.  My children certainly have benefited from that relationship (I will take some credit for having facilitated this most important contribution to their lives).

What’s different this year is that my status has been elevated to the Grandfather level due to the generosity of our daughter and her husband.  They bestowed upon my BBL and me an absolutely gorgeous 21 inch, 18,569 carat Ruby (coincidentally also the traditional precious gem for one’s 40^th anniversary -- how thoughtful)!

As a bonus, I recently learned my Grandfather-ness will be raised to the power of 2 before the next Father’s Day due to the munificent efforts of my son and his wife to provide my granddaughter her first 1^st cousin (there is no 2^nd place in this race)!

Now I find myself wondering if I can improve on my “personal best” record as a Grandfather.  I’m not too worried . . . I’m married to one of the world’s best Grandmothers.

"Here's to grandchildren, gifts from on high . . . they are God's way of increasing our economy's money supply!"   Prost!

RIP TL

We are saying our final farewell to a man who was, to me, first a nemesis, then a co-worker, then a friend.  Rinse and repeat, again and again and again over the course of 45 years! And while I truly considered him a friend, he was always somewhat of a mystery to me too. 

I first saw him on my initial job interview with the NCR Corporation in Dayton, Ohio in late 1969.  I had not yet graduated from college.  I was in awe of the prospect of working for this renowned company, and definitely feeling a lot of anxiety.  My interviewer was immaculately dressed and groomed, sophisticated yet friendly, the model of a modern business professional – in other words very unlike me.  Going through my head . . . you only have one chance to make a good first impression.

So there I was facing my interviewer in a glass encased office that was in the middle of a bullpen of desk workers.  As I am trying my level best to supply intelligent answers, all of a sudden this person appears on the other side of the window wall (behind the interviewer) and starts all kind of antics . . . putting finger “horns” on the interviewer’s head, making gorilla-like gestures, drawing knife-across-throat and hanging pantomimes!  That was my “introduction” to big business and to an extraordinary human being.

I have no idea what I ended up saying in that interview and to this day I am amazed I received an offer of employment.  When I reported to work, I finally met my antagonist and was astounded to learn he had only been hired a few months before my interview and had the moxy as a new employee to pull this prank.  That’s when I also learned he had been asked to leave Notre Dame after being caught participating in a panty raid at St. Mary’s.  Perhaps he considered his stunt with me, and many others over the years, merely child’s play.

When our department relocated to Wisconsin, I was a single man always in search of a home cooked meal.  At times it appeared to TL’s wife Nancy that they might as well adopt me.  At and after many a dinner in their home, I believe I saw a different TL than many of my coworkers.  Out of the limelight, without feeling any need or pressure to “perform”, TL almost seemed to live down at my level.   [Nah, not really!]

The very next day I could become the butt of his comment or joke.  On our company softball team he graced me with the nickname “Stonefingers” after one of my many errors.  But I wasn’t singled out; he took particular delight in bestowing nicknames to coworkers (a long time before G. W. Bush was doing it).  And when my future wife showed up at her/our first company function, after being introduced, TL loudly asked her “are those D’s or double D’s”?  I could have strangled him!

TL, for all his antics, was an extremely dedicated and loyal company man.  I had occasions to accompany him on sales calls ranging from small sheet printers who might buy 500 pounds of product per year to national account plants that could buy more than 5000 tons per year. In my observations he always represented our company and its products extremely well and with a level of enthusiasm and professionalism few could surpass.  And his “secret sauce” was that he always made his interaction with a customer or prospect a memorable event.

Talented/outrageous/intuitive/edgy/courageous/crazy?  In many ways I think TL was a savant . . . think Jonathon Winters or Robin Williams.  And, like them, a little dose  could go a long way, if you know what I mean!

TL provided enough memories to last me until I meet him again . . . I think he’ll be the one behind St. Peter, putting horns on his head!

Time Traveler

Thomas Wolfe believed you can't go home again.  But I just did.

Quite unexpectedly a book arrived the other day, a thoughtful gift from a sister-in-law.  Its title:  Goodbye Elgin High by Mike Bailey who authored a fairly parallel story of us coming of age in a city undergoing dramatic change (except for a minor two year difference in our academic schedules and the fact I attended the other high school).  Reading it immediately transported me back to my teen years in this median size northern Illinois city that we called home.

I was reminded that during my high school days the St. Louis Gateway Arch was completed; the news was all about the Soviets first "spacewalk" and then their first soft lunar landing;  the Crocker Theater was showing The Sound of Music; WLS radio was playing I Got You Babe, Help, and Catch Us If You Can;  the popular TV shows were Bonanza and Andy Griffith.  Tang, Cool Whip, Pampers, Pop Tarts and freeze-dried coffee appeared on the shelves of our 35+ neighborhood grocery stores.  Modern Dairy still delivered milk to the insulated aluminum cube sitting by our back door.  There was a live lion at Lords Park. And gas was 30-35 cents/gallon at more than 55 service stations in town.

As far as coming of age memories go, the author has a lot more of them than I do.  My most vivid high school memory was me nearly scaring Dad to death as he was teaching me how to drive (might have been his most memorable too).  But before the State of Illinois would grant me a driver license, they made me get glasses-- their testing discovered that sometime during my tender years I had become near-sighted.  Once I got my new glasses I really began to discover the world around me.  Coupled with the newfound independence my license and an old beat up '47 Cadillac provided, my life took on new dimensions.  I became a better student, did well enough on my ACTs, graduated in 1966 and went off to college.  About the same time as my life seemed to be ascending, Elgin's started descending - both economically and in my consciousness.

In 1952, Elgin was selected as an All-American City and rightfully so.  It was a great place to grow up.  But starting in the mid-sixties, circumstances conspired against it. The tipping point was the closure of its most prominent and famous namesake employer: The Elgin National Watch Company.  It had been an economic engine providing a substantial foundation of local employment for thousands of skilled, above average paid folks who had, in turn, attracted other manufacturing and retail businesses for more than a century.  Some say it was the victim of cheap foreign competition, but the tremendously successful marketing campaign (spearheaded by John Cameron Swayze) relentlessly promoted the rugged (and cheap) virtues of the Timex brand watch also took its toll.  In retrospect, the Timex slogan “It takes a licking and keeps on ticking” could have been adopted as an Elgin city slogan after the demise of its own watch company.

That started the slow decline in the community.  Other local businesses withered, died or moved.  The demographics shifted toward lower income families.  More and more Spanish speaking students appeared in the schools struggling with the English curriculums which negatively affected overall education performance.  Increasing numbers of families left for other places with better performing schools.  This ripple effect continued for the next three decades (some would say it hasn't ended yet).

Elgin most certainly would have died if it had not been successful in attracting a casino.  The city coffers now receive $1 for each gambler and 5% of their losses.  City government now has more funds than ever.  While providing for infrastructure improvements, they don’t have that many more better paying jobs or much better educational performance.  I guess you could say they gambled their future . . .  and at least won an All-American City designation a second time (in 2002).  I hope the good fortune lasts.

But I’m glad to have lived there when I did; As I’m fond of saying, it was a good time and place to be from.  Thank you, Judy, for providing the vehicle for this trip in time.