Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Scotland anymore.

I have done some stupid things in my life.

Still reigning as undefeated champion of stupid is when I thought my grandmother’s enema bag was a Scottish bagpipe.

I don’t want to talk about it.

I was only eight.

I still have flashbacks of that story being told every Thanksgiving.

I still can’t watch Braveheart because of it.

The most current stupid thing I have done is wrench my back.

That happens when you get older.

You wrench things.

I wrenched my back pouring melted butter into a cup.

Apparently this is very strenuous.

Being a man I attempted to “shake” it off.

Because that’s what men do.

Um…

Don’t do that.

Don’t shake anything when you’ve wrenched your back.

You not only look stupid but you end up on the floor making weird groaning sounds.

Unintentionally.

I of course, being a man, refused to go to the doctor.

At first.

When a man voluntarily goes to the doctor you know he’s injured.

If we’re just hurt we plant our butts on the couch and whine.

A lot.

I called the doctors office and described, in detail, to the highly trained medical office receptionist my current health situation.

“I injured my back.”

“Was this a sports related injury?”

“Kind of.”

“What exactly were you doing Mr. Calabrese?”

“I was pouring melted butter into a cup at an all you can eat crab feast.”

“Excuse me?”

“I wasn’t eating the crab; I was just pouring the butter.”

“Uh huh… Are you currently taking any medication for your injury Mr. Calabrese?”

“Is tequila considered medication? Never mind. Currently? No…. Not currently.”

I hate going to the doctor.

When you get to a certain age all they want to do is stick their finger in your butt.

Apparently they can tell when it’s going to rain by doing that because all my doctor does when he’s up there is talk about the weather.

“Hmmm…. Looks like there’s a storm brewing.”

“Yeah well any higher and your gonna hear thunder.”

I’ve tried to joke with him about this exam but he just doesn’t get it.

“It’s okay doc you don’t have to check up there anymore. I set up a living trust so I can avoid prostate.”

Have you ever looked around the examination room?

I don’t think they should let someone like me sit in there for forty-five minutes by myself.

I play with everything.

When the doctor finally came in I was wearing rubber gloves.

“So doc… Sunny day huh?”

“I was just reading this Time magazine here. Really something how Bush beat Gore last week.”

“Does hitting someone on the knee with this tomahawk thingy really test your reflexes or is this some kind of joke you doctors are all in on?”

So I pulled a muscle and pinched my sciatic nerve.

Pouring butter into a cup.

For this you get Motrin and Flexeril.

Flexeril is a Latin word that means….

“Say goodnight Tony.”

So for the last few days I’ve been kind of out of it.

I keep hearing bagpipes.

"Nana? Is that you?"