Saturday, July 23, 2011

Shtick For A Clique


I became interested in kefir due to stomach problems. Some of them are caused by the prescribed medicines I take for rheumatoid arthritis, but constipation has been a fairly constant companion in my life. Diarrhea? Not so much. Getting Montezuma's Revenge in Mexico City wasn't fun. 

If I'm constipated, I literally (but cluelessly) act like I'm full of shit. People have told me that to my face in public too. They say, "Man... you're full of crap. Git outta here with that depressing shit. Find something giggly to say, buy the house a few drinks, and then ..." 

Contrarily, if I am is afflicted with diarrhea, and around the same sort of socially adept people, I just run on and on meaninglessly for the sake of appearances. Eventually, my mindless chatter drives them all to distraction, and the fix is in the works. No blame. It can't be very flattering to them for my true interest to be where the nearest bathroom is. Egad! I hover... 

Having my deportment ruled by my GI tract makes me feel hopeless. I used to (sort of) wanna belong to a popular clique and be seen as an amenable, back-slapping fellow. No mas. Apparently I use the wrong shtick too quick to belong to some slick, jet-setting clique. It's the bane of my ex-is-tense. '-)

It's the prime season for figs and blueberries around here, but there is a huge drought and the lack of water in the soil and the debilitating heat is screwing with everything about the fruits these plants produce. My fig tree is ripening and dropping off it's fruit to save energy. 

The skin of those moisture-less figs seem to be too tough and thick for the usual bugs and birds to eat through their leather-like surface. More for me, but at this rate they'll soon be gone for the season. I'm eating them as fast as I can, but there are too many of them to keep from going over the top and hating them. 

Let 'em rot! There is always next year. At least for the figs. 

In the past I think I've written that everybody gets cataracts if they live long enough. It might turn out that's not true. I've been reading more about cataracts. Some cataracts form that are not debilitating and there is not any need for an operation to have good vision. Apparently, some people never get cataracts at all. Not even when they get old, and it's not luck that they don't either. 

According to my latest web search there is a possibility that the reason my cataracts turned brown was associated with the fact that i smoked tobacco cigarettes for 30-40 years. It may not be the only reason my lens turned brown, and their turning brown is certainly not the only debilitating problem with my eyesight. 

It's easy to see that now that my right eye has had the dirty brown lens replaced by a really clear plastic one. I can compare my old, distorted lens remaining in my left eye with the clarity of perception in my right eye just by closing each eye alternately. Talking about your sensory changes, my left eye used to be my "good eye", and now, by comparison, it's quite horrible. 

In the past, it's literally been a case of the blind leading the blind. I just didn't realize it until the last week and a half. I thought that by getting my "bad eye" fixed, that combined with my old "good eye" I would be able to see pretty good. Untrue. 

It is correct to assume that I see pretty good with my right eye now. After the bandage patch came off it was immediately clear that my "bad eye" was now my "good eye". It also revealed just how blind I was in my old "good eye". 

I can see how compromised my vision in my left eye is. Right now. Sitting here at my computer. I close one eye and then the other, and it's readily apparent that my left eye was the blind eye that led my even blinder right eye. The blind was leading the blind. 

I feel like going back and apologizing to every person I led astray with my double-bind blindness. There is not a chance in hell that I will. Not that the people I duped don't deserve a sincere apology, they do. The problem I foresee is that my apology would only confuse them, for they would know not what I did even if I explained it real good. I don't do what i do for their reasons, and what else matters?