Tag Archives: Donald Trump

You Make Me Feel….like an idiot….

Last week I had to spend 8 hours in the hospital waiting for my brother-in-law to come out of emergency surgery. All went well, in fact, so well, that they sent him straight home. Because he had been without food or drink for 24 hours, I decided to  go get him dinner and bring it to the rehab center. I didn’t trust that at 7:00 P.M. they would provide a nutritious meal, or any meal for that matter, because, you know, “the kitchen is closed.”

When I arrived at the rehab center with his hoagie, chips and root beer (okay, not so nutritious, but he was hungry and I was tired), there was a tray being delivered to his room. It contained one pathetic grilled cheese sandwich. That’s it, not even chips or a pickle, after no food for 24 hours. There wasn’t even a picture of Donald Trump or Jesus burned into the grilled cheese, and yet we were to believe that it was a miracle he had a sandwich from the kitchen at this hour!

The next day, I was exhausted. i just wanted to stay at home and work on my computer, sit on my deck, read a book and be left alone. As I was enjoying my solitude, I decided to play some music while I cleaned up the house.

I could not get the BOSE to turn on. The only way the BOSE radio and CD player works is with a remote control. The old BOSE, which died and they so thoughtfully replaced for a mere $250, had buttons on the unit and a remote. But someone in design thought, “Hey what do we need those buttons for? We have a remote!”

I’ll tell you what they need those buttons for.

So this remote which is the size and thickness of a credit card, does not work. No matter how many times or how hard I press those buttons nothing is happening. In my infinite wisdom, I decide : “Oh I’ll just put in a CD. I don’t need to listen to the radio.”

So in goes, Carole King’s amazing album from 1971: Tapestry.

I cant’ turn the volume up to drown out my warbling, because, you know, the buttons don’t work. So I sing softly, so I can hear Carole.

Three hours later I want to kill Carole. The earth has moved and everyone is so far away, but I can’t turn off the damn BOSE, because, you know the buttons don’t work.

I finally discover with a magnifying glass, in that credit-card-sized remote is a teeny, tiny place for a battery, which I do manage to purchase after going to three different stores.

It never occurred to me I could pull the plug, it was too late baby, for that.

“You Just have to Laugh…..”

©2015 Cathy Sikorski

 

Another One Rides The Bus…..

For some reason, my friend, Lisa likes to be featured in this blog. So here we go.

For medical reasons, a traumatic brain injury, Lisa had  to give up her driver’s license several years ago. Eventually, she became quite savvy and capable of taking public transportation. In her small town, that means the bus. A perk, if you would like to call it that, of being on Medicare, is that you get to ride the bus for free. Otherwise it costs a dollar.

Lisa has been riding this bus for a few years now. Until recently, all she had to do was to show her Medicare card to the bus driver, and she was allowed to take a seat, gratis.

Apparently, there’s a new sheriff in town.

A few weeks ago she had this encounter with a female bus driver, whom she never saw before.

“Sorry, ma’am, but you need a special card to ride the bus as a Medicare rider.”

“No,” said Lisa, “I don’t. I have been just showing my Medicare card for years and that is sufficient.”

“No, you need the special card,” said the bus driver.

“Since when?”

“I don’t know. I just know  you need it.”

“I’ve never even seen ‘the special card’, “said Lisa.

“Well, I’ll let you go this time, but you need to get it.”

Lisa never saw that bus driver again. Since she didn’t know where to get the special card, she just let it pass.

The other day, as she was getting on the bus, there was a new young male bus driver, whom Lisa had never seen before. He’s holding a pamphlet in his hand as she ascends the stairs.

“How old are  you?”

Lisa, thinking he is complimenting her……as every middle-aged woman thinks when handing a Medicare card as ID, replies a bit quietly so as not to alarm fellow passengers who most likely think she is quite young:

“I’m 63.”

“Well, you’re barely that, I can see.”

Lisa is flattered,until he drops his bombshell.

“You can’t ride the bus for free. You have to be 65 years old.”

“I’m disabled and I’ve been doing it for years.”

dollar“Nope. Not allowed. Here’s the brochure. It’s a dollar.”

I’m happy to say here that my friend Lisa has come a long way since that TBI. Not only does she get around on her own. But after many years of trepidation just being out in the world, well, she doesn’t take crap anymore. Yay, Lisa!

“What’s  your name?”She demanded from this arrogant brute, who was so willingly ready to accost the disabled and the elderly.

“Well,ma’am,” he sheepishly replied, “if you don’t have the dollar today, you can pay next time.”

This bus driver was on a mission to save that bus company a dollar, or take a power trip every stop along the way, or who knows what, maybe her bus driver was Donald Trump in disguise and he was testing some of his new economic policies to see how to save government funds.

Never did give her his name…and…..weirdly, she hasn’t seen that bus driver again, either.

For a dollar…..did I say that already?…………..a dollar.

“You Just have to Laugh…..”

©2015 Cathy Sikorski