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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ Let’s tackle Dementia-ville local before we get to the national scene, shall we?  The patient has been quite irritable this week, and it appeared that something is bothering her. She set me straight when she glared at me with milky eyes, expectorated, and answered my “So, how are you doing?” inquiry with a loud Get out, you you you!

~~ The aide wondered if she could ask a personal question. Why not? “Are you a fan of this Donald President?” When I said I was not, she smiled and relaxed a bit. “Good, good,” she said. “I think he’s less honest than the worst used-car salesman.” A very interesting conversation ensued in which I once again had to reassure someone born in another country that the PUS does not reflect the majority views of the USA.

~~ A woman asked me if I had any tips for improving her fertility through yoga (this stuff really happens when you’re early for class). I told her of anecdotes I’ve heard about yoga allowing a body to regulate and eventually ovulate, and how it decreases anxiety and somehow makes fertility more accessible. “Thanks, you’re right,” she says. “My mom says people are more likely to get pregnant when they don’t think about it.” I smile and say, “Amen to thoughtless pregnancies.” She laughed.

~~ Two guys are having a conversation on a NJ-PATH train about buttons women can request from the MTA that let subway riders know they are pregnant and would like to be offered a seat.

Both agree they’d get up, but one guy was adamant he wouldn’t want “his lady” asking for a button. “This way they know you’re pregnant and are gonna put you on the list.” I wondered about the import of “the list” and the consequences of being on it, but I certainly wasn’t going to ask.

~~ When riding the LIRR a little while later, I eavesdropped on a more extensive conversation. It seems the woman and the man speaking had just left a Mother’s Day celebration, as had we. However, their party sounded much livelier, as mom had apparently asked one of the daughters-in-law to stop eating so much so there would be food for the rest of them. She started to cry, the mom’s son wanted to know why she’d said such an awful thing, and “drunk mom” responded that everyone knows the brunch-consumer is too fat. My favorite part of their lively recap was when fat Helene told drunk mom that if they “invent a diet for bitches called Bitch Watchers you’d probably be in the commercial.” It was also the favorite part of the train couple, because they couldn’t stop laughing and making jokes about “the Jenny Bitch” diet, “the Bitchkins” diet, and “how many Bitch Watchers points are in a pizza!”

~~ So when a goon president is invited to the White House by another goon president and the foreign goon has his goon squad beat up protestors on US soil, why is there no hue and cry from the MAGA goon? Is it because there’s some “honor” between associated goons?
https://www.theguardian.com/world/video/2017/may/18/erdogan-appears-to-watch-turkish-security-teams-clash-with-protesters-video?CMP=twt_a-world_b-gdnworld

~~ My son turns 26 tomorrow. You can gloss over that — I would if it was your kid — but I am flummoxed by all the time that has elapsed since we welcomed him into our family. I’m proud of who he is, but even more than that, I’m pleased that he adds such decency and humanity into a world that needs as much as it can get.

Dasvidaniya. Have a good weekend.
LET’S GO METS!

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