Nothing like starting out the week with a bad cold that gets worse and worse. I know I said I would spare you the gross details and I will...except for this observation: The older I get and the harder I sneeze or cough, the quicker I have to run to the bathroom. I'm just saying......
When you have a cold, people feel the need to share their most recent cold experience with you. One person told me about her colds during the last 12 months, including the color of her phlegm. She was very proud. Another person pointed out that, due to her recent cold, she had decided to dress as "Mucus" for Halloween. My blank stare clearly indicated my confusion and she explained that "Mucus" is a character in the Musinex commercials. Forgive me for not following.
On Monday afternoon, I gave into peer pressure and left work at 3:00pm. I stayed home for 2 days in a medicated stooper. Subjected myself to hours of political ads, crime stories and news. I think I like the news stories about people that get caught doing stupid stuff. Like the robber that crashed his car trying to get away. He was still able to drive his wrecked car. At some point on his journey to the "hideout" he realized his license place fell off so he went back to the crime scene (swarming with cops) to retrieve it. "Uhhh, excuse me officer, have you, uhhh, seen a license plate laying around here? Uhh, yeah that's it. Thanks." Go to Jail, do not collect $200. Last night they stopped a drunk guy in Royal Oak wearing nothing but his t-shirt. Can't really remember a time when I was that drunk that I got naked in public...well, never mind. Anyway, I heard Randy Travis' name mentioned the other day. I feel sorry for this guy. Twice now, he has gotten drunk as a skunk and naked as a jay bird and headed down to a gas station. He walks in and demands cigarettes. Unfortunately his birthday suit didn't have any pockets. Here comes the cops. Or the dude that thought he should jump on the back of the alligator that wondered out of the canal in his neighborhood and try to tie a rope around it. Alligator 1. Dumb guy 0.
So to make my healing speed up, I headed to the chiropractor on Wednesday for an adjustment. All went well and I no longer felt like a human phlegm ball. Sorry for the visual. Heading back from Ferndale, I detoured through my old neighborhood in Redford. I lived there for 12 years. It was nice to see the house. It hadn't changed much. However, the "Clampets" have moved out of the house next door. It appeared a nice new family had moved in. I miss the Clampets at times. A 1000 square foot three bedroom ranch with 2 parents, 5 kids, 2 dogs, 1 cat, 4 cousins, 1 aunt and weekly visits by the local cops. It was like living next to reality TV. Three favorite memories:
A. Drove home one day, pulled into my driveway to find that the Clampet kids had taken chalk and drew all over it. I didn't mind that. I did mind that they had staged a crime scene and it looked like cops had drawn outlines of dead bodies, guns, bullet casings and they put yellow ribbon up along the property line.
B. One day I was looking out the front window at the 4 year old Clampet that walked around talking to herself and petting imaginary animals. She is very creative I suspect. Anyway, she walks in front of my house, pulls down her pants and squats on the sidewalk and urinates. I opened the door and yelled, "hey kid, pee on your own sidewalk for once!"
C. After work one day I arrived home to find 4 police cars in front of the Clampets and my home. Mrs. Clampet is outside screaming "My Baby. Someone has my Baby." Police are knocking on doors, looking in homes. I open my garage for the officer and he looks around and leaves. I go into the house and change into warmer clothes because I was going to help look. I head outside to ask Cousin Clampet what is going on and he says "Angie's missing." I said which one is Angie and he says the 4 year old that talks to herself. (AKA the urinator). I grab my flashlight, like I know what I'm doing, and head outside. Suddenly I hear the Sargent yell "Open the *(&^% garage door." Mrs. Clampet runs into the house and pushes the remote. All of a sudden the Sargent walks out of the garage with Angie, the urinator. Mrs. Clampet starts yelling "My Baby My Baby." The Sargent walks up to Mrs. Clampet and says "What in the hell was she doing in the garage?" With a straight face Mrs. Clampet says "I must of forgot she was sleeping in the car." Sargent turned around, looked at me, Cousin Clampet and the other neighbors and walked away.
Star bright. Star light. I wonder where the Clampets are tonight.
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