Is There A Doctor In The House?

      My wife, Jeanne, was in her doctor's office in Westport, CT for her yearly exam. There were four secretaries behind glass windows in the spacious waiting room. That's where I sat waiting during her hour with the doctor. Then, when I blew my nose, my left nostril began to bleed. I went throught an entire box of nearby tissues. There was no stopping the blood flow.
     At least eight people on average were waiting to see other doctors who shared the offices behind closed doors, except for the visible secretaries always on their computers and telephones. Once in a while a doctor, with a stethoscope riding side saddle on his or her shoulder, would appear behind one of the secretaries.
     Although the secretaries, waiting patients and doctors behind the glass wall all saw me bleeding profusely, NOT ONE PERSON SHOWED ANY INTEREST IN MY DILEMMA AND OFFERED ASSISTANCE!
     How often do the television medical ads say CALL YOUR DOCTOR IMMEDIATELY?  They all do. Now, in doctors' offices, I'm bleeding and not one of these hypocrits is responding to the sight of a bleeding man. Yes, my nose overflow had spilled on to my jacket and was quite visible to everyone. Nor did those waiting express the slightest degree of compassion, not to mention the four secretaries who had a clear view of me with piles of bloody tissues on the chair next to me.
     After an hour of bleeding, now slowing down gratefully, my wife appeared with a clean bill of health. She has been my unregistered nurse during the months following my operation to replace a faulty heart valve. Jeanne went to the first secretary and ordered her to supply six ice cubes in a wash rag immediately. The middle aged woman responded like a scared rabbit evading an automobile.
     The ice pack on the bridge of my nose, plus additional pressure on the bleeding nostril, finally stopped the bleeding. We sat together for another half-hour to be certain, then quietly departed for the drive home. That hour ride was not welcome because the braking and road curves produced another minor flow of blood. When we reached our house in Southbury, CT there was complete stoppage.
     So, folks, there were doctors in the office. I counted at least six who visited one of the secretaries. None responded. Nor did any waiting patients respond to the national battle cry:  IF YOU SEE SOMETHING. SAY SOMETHING AND DO SOMETHING!
     Perhaps the lack of action on the part of strangers in the waiting room was due to the upscale nature of Westport today; i.e. don't be bothered by anything that doesn't concern you or produce income. That seemed to be the name of the game.

One More Thing.......

     I spent $50 on Connecticut Lottery scratch off tickets. One set of tickets said 20 CHANCES TO WIN!  The other set bolding boasted I had 30 CHANCES TO WIN!  Among those "lucky chances" would be an opportunity to win $5,000 a month FOR LIFE. (EAT YOUR HEART OUT PUBLISHERS CLEARING HOUSE....MORE ON THAT SCAM COMING UP).
     So I had 50 chances to win mucho dollars. You know what? I lost $50. That makes me wonder why the CT Lottery doesn't print 30 CHANCES TO LOSE! Especially on those cards they know are losers. They could at least let me scratch off $5 on a $5 card. Then I would feel better because I did win my money back! And I would invest it in another card. THEY DON'T DO THAT BECAUSE THEY TOO SUFFER FROM CORPORATE GREED!!!   ALL OR NOTHING AT ALL.
     Well, folks, I do enjoy the scratching off procedure. The CT Lottery teases customers with their form of 3-card-monte. Many years ago I saw they three African-American guys flipping those cards before about 10 onlookers throwing their money down on the blanket and throwing it away.
     Every third person would win $20 for their $20 that was bet. Then they would continue to lose until they lost a few hundred. I waited for the third person who would win and jumped in with my $20 bill. I won that amount and walked away. One of the team followed me closely whispering, "hey man, you're a winner. Don't quit now. I can smell you going home with big bucks in your pocket."
     This charade was on busy Fifth Avenue in New York City. I was at the street ready to cross to my office. I didn't respond to the confederate. He continued to whisper nice things in my ear (they have to be careful because the cops would take their money and haul them off to jail). Then he took a chance and held my arm in the middle of the crossing street.
     The light changed and traffic began beeping their horns. I decided to have my heart attack because this linebacker goon was still holding on to my arm. I wasn't supposed to win and walk away from their stupid game. I was supposed to win and surrender my cash. Not me. I clutched my heart and sank to the pavement. He took off like a bird in flight. No way he could deal with a heart patient possibly dying at his feet..
     A man in the lead car got out and helped me to my feet. I feigned injury and thanked him for being compassionate. He got back in his car and traffic flowed again. So did the 3-Card Monte scammers. They left their dirty blanket behind and skipped town, so to speak. My fall, which they witnessed, scared the living shit out of them. It works every time. Try it. You'll have the last laugh, and money too!!!

How Many Times Were You Screwed In 2015?

     For starters, it's always better to give ulcers than to get them. My first screwing was with LIBERTY MUTUAL INSURANCE. They have quietly doubled the rates for insuring our house and automobile over the past three years. Other companies have been bombarding us to switch for a lower rate. But when I gave GEICO that opportunity, they wanted $500 more a year than we were paying!
    So, folks, a little screwing doesn't mean it's the end of the world. After all, banks are still only paying 1% interest on savings, the stock market has been plunging like rats on a sinking ship and Social Security for 2016 remains the same as it was in 2015; no 3% cost of living increase. So we'll eat out three times a month instead of four.
     Before continuing this rant, I was thinking about the ad on TV for renting a NATIONAL car. You can pick out any car and just get in and drive off to your destination. But wait. I recall that after the 9/11 attack on the USA, the jazz duo, Mitchell/Ruff, wanted to rent a NATIONAL car in Chicago and drive it to New York City for their next concent. All air flights were grounded. NATIONAL immediately raised rental rates three times the normal amount. They paid the price.
     The Internet is a mecca for corporate scammers. They open a bank account in Delaware, where the tax bite is low, set up a P.O. Box address in Las Vegas and design a web site that grabs your credit or debit card and every month they deduct a small amount you aren't supposed to be aware of. It's in the small print following an offer to send  you a free sample for just shipping and handling costs.
     I've fallen for that sucker trap. But  not any longer. No matter how enticing the offer is. Nor should you be screwed. Just be firm. Don't be intimidated. If the phone caller wants a donation for the lepers of Basoutoland in South Africa, hang up. If the caller says IRS will take away your house, car and bank account "for what you owe," hang up. It's the latest national scam.
     There are no more free lunches. The year 2016 is going to be a historic mess with all the political ads and conventions to boot. I'll leave you with my photo below. Thanks for reading!

Don't Pull My Chain Dr.Cary Nelson!

     I've been getting a number of "pitches" from Dr. Nelson and the Health Institute Sciences. They all start out with a command to "turn on your computer sound." Then begins the rant to save my life, especially if I'm older than 55 years of age. And if I don't prevail for the next ten or fifteen minutes of legal garble, along with rapid fire line drawings and the uttered words printed on my computer screen, I could suddenly die without saying goodbye to my loved ones.
     Here's a sample of the verbal garbage:  "I can tell you now there are four foods you should never ever eat again! (photo of a hamburger) and I will name them. But first I want to insist you hear me out in full. Don't delete this life-saving message that will allow you to throw away those pills, stop eating killer food and begin a new life all over again. Are you listening to me and reading what I am saying as well? I hope so. Sit back and relax. Forget the greedy drug companies. They only want your money and you could die as well. Or become so infirmed that you are on your back in a retirement home. Your house is sold to pay the bills as you suffer in that home, filled with lepers and sick octogenarians destined to die. But there is hope with my message and the information that can jump start your life so you can laugh, smile, run and eat healthy food to sustain your living to 100 years or more! Take your hand off that DELETE key. Listen to me. If you can't hear read my words on the screen. It's O.K. for you to record what I am about to tell you. Use your cell phone recording device. Or have a nurse do it for you. But do it now! Let's not fool around anymore with your life. It's too precious! I can save you like nobody else can. We'll get to the bad foods, questionable drugs and other killer ideas that you have been sick over. Let it be over. Listen to me. Read my lips! I hope you are ready to change your life once and forever. I have answers and solutions for you. But before I go on there are a few  subjects I want to discuss and this might take a half-hour. Do you want me to continue?  Of course you do. And I will reveal my secrets soon, but first................."
     I won't bore you any longer, loyal followers. Just hit that DELETE icon and go on with your own life, whether it be miserable or wonderful!

Merry Christmas 2015., Maybe.

     It was the week before Christmas several years ago. I remember it well because I had completed my shopping and was about to cross 42nd Street into Grand Central Station. Then I noticed the elderly man ahead was trudging across in Jim Conway fashion, i.e. like a 101 year old man. It was snowing and the street surface was all ice. He was beginning to slip and slide when an impatient taxi driver blasted his horn and began nudging the old guy who had two loaded shopping bags, one in each hand. He slipped down, bags and all, with wrapped presents spilled around.
     Other pedestrians stood on my side of the street, some shouting encouragement, while the taxi mashed a few presents and the driver kept honking and shouting obscentities out his open window. I could see that this outrageous taxi driver had long dirty blonde hair and clutched a cigar in his dirty mouth (in both senses of the word).
    The pitiful old guy was attempting to salvage his gifts strewn around and was on his hands and knees in the ice and snow. Several male passengers anxious to make their train schedule shouted to help him, but he waved them away. All this time the taxi driver continued his harrassment, while a worried passenger in the back seat decided to get out and run. He did without paying the fare.
     Now the irate driver, his cab only inches from the old man, with traffic backed up and honking galore....it was rush home time....was pushing the man with his foot and still screaming epithets. Talk about a deranged guy, that driver took the cake!
     Several dozen of us were now watching this sad saga and two well constructed men talked about going over and punching the taxi driver for his outrageous behavior. If I were 20 years younger I would have joined them. Then, suddenly, the man on the ice got up, flashed wallet and revealed a gold New York Police Department shield. He was a retired detective, armed (yes, he had a revolver at the ready) and he placed the taxi driver under arrest.
     Simultaneously, two police cars came to a stop, the officers had their guns out and they took the taxi driver away. Those of us on the sidewalk broke into cheers and applause. The driver had dropped his cigar and had a catatonic expression on his face. He might lose his license and even go to jail (it's against the law in New York State to assault a senior citizen).
     A good samaratin helped the detective gather his packages, one of the police officers drove the taxi to the side of the street and traffic flowed by again. We all went our separate ways, knowing that the long hand of the law can often arrive in the Saint Nick of the time!

Let's Apply For A Quicken Loan or Reverse Mortgage

     I called the toll free number and it was answered by a sour sounding telemarketer working in a boiler room environment. There were a dozen voices chatting away in the background and the man representing Quicken sounded like he had flunked the training course to work for this company.
     The Quicken salesman was really low class. I tried to beg off but he hung on with constant banal chatter. I hung up. He called me right back. I asked for the free DVD, plus two of the free miniature magnifying glasses offered on ads. I was assured these materials would arrive soon.
     Three months later I still haven't received the DVD's or magnifying glasses. During that time I did receive a few phone calls from the same salesman. One call came at 8 am while sleeping; another at dinner time and again the following early morning. Too much gibberish to understand!
     But one thing certain; I do not intend to do any business whatsoever with Quicken Loans. They will survive without me!
    

How About A Met-Life Death Insurance Policy?

     According to the television ads by MET-LIFE anyone can buy a DEATH POLICY without having to undergo a medical exam or even reveal you might be totally confined to your bedroom with bone cancer. But there is a catch for this $20,000 bounty when you die. You have to be under the age of 75.
     Who are these acturaries kidding? Go to any doctor's office and you will see patients in their 80's and 90's waiting for appointments. Why should these hardy old-timers be denied DEATH INSURANCE? Yes, let's call it what it is, MET-LIFE, it's DEATH INSURANCE.
     Obviously, the insurance company doesn't want to risk anyone living to 100 with a paid up DEATH INSURANCE POLICY.  The payouts to these feeble people waiting for Heaven would be enormous when they all start falling and suffer broken bones with a cardiac arrest to boot.
     On the other hand, if you are under the age of 75, would like to be cremated and have your ashes scattered on the lawn of a nearby House of Worship, then I would suggest going for the twenty grand policy before you pass the age of 75.  This would avoid enormous funeral expenses that could cost thousands of dollars. And the party afterwards, including musicians and good food, is always a five figure sum.
     So why not plan to die cheap? I have made my plans. No fuss, no heroic efforts to save my life, no public funeral. Just call a taxi, give the driver $500 and a shovel, a small metal container with my ashes, along with the modest wooden headstone that reads "I HAD FUN," and tell him to drive to a wooded area nearby.
     This way, friends, relatives and fans can visit that site (a $10 fee will send them a map) and they can cry their eyes out, curse me out or say prayers. I just won't care anymore.