Aside From That, Mrs. L . . .

I don’t know if it’s me or the medical profession (I’m just kidding—I know it’s the medical profession), but every time I have a conversation with a doctor, things get surreal.

Just had my yearly checkup, which, given the circumstances seemed a little unnecessary, although I thought it would be interesting to learn if there’s anything going on that might kill me before ALS does, and at the end of the exam, my darling doctor (she is a peach) said, and I quote: “You know, aside from the ALS and the heart disease, you’re really in very good shape.”

I wonder what I have to do to be considered in lousy shape by this woman. Get run over by Amtrak?

(And aside from the engine and transmission, my car is in very good shape, too, except for the brakes and the tires.)

I promised no more obits, so let’s switch to my tombstone:

She Is in Darned Good Shape
Considering She’s Dead and All

____________________________________________

Ok, enuf of that.

I’ve been rooting for Barack since the California primary, and holding my breath and trying not to jinx the election by being overconfident, and sending tiny checks and thinking “it’s impossible but maybe it’s not, maybe it’s a teeny, tiny bit possible” and it turns out it was very, very possible.

And I had the strangest reaction to Obama’s resounding victory. I mean, he clobbered them. And for the first and only time in my life, I felt proud to be white. And that is a very strange feeling indeed. I wanted to run around screaming, “See, we’re not all bigoted jerks, and now I can prove it.”

We must take good care of this man, because he’s going to be one of the great presidents, and he’s going to turn this country around. And boy, does it need turning.

You betcha.