A nothing day again, the result of having to get over to the hospital for a checkup on my wrist, the one with cellulitis/phlebitis from my [indwelling] catheter last week. My veins are left tough, like small ropes under the skin, but seems harmless. But this trip took half a day.Estelle and I have decided to do something tomorrow, OMG you say, that is a Friday. Yes, but she likes the idea of dry-dating and has certainly incorporated the term into her everyday vocabulary. I was mildly worried when I broached the topic first time because guys, you have to be careful. There are two types of women who will dry-date. The lively ones where you get all kinds of places you’d never go or afford on your own. And the others like my family when told they have to pay their share—they’ll sit there, just sit there, saying that’s 50/50, too.
Back to the date, it is up to me to find something to do. Not so easy. We are different people. I will go bowling when I have a date, but not with a broken arm. The ArtsPark has nothing scheduled but even when they have a play, it is usually Spanish, Oriental, or totally concerned with homosexuality. We could always go eat but I have no idea what’s out there. The casino? They have good shows I’ve heard. Those who enjoy this decision-making process are already enjoying it more than I am. Ahem.
There was a commentary on MSN y’day about the Neo-Nazi gang taking over a town in Germany. The speaker went on about how, like a cancer, first one moved in and made such a pest of himself, the neighbors finally moved, selling at a loss just to get away. Then more Neos moved in, further driving down property values, upsetting the local economy, and pressuring others to conform with their political views.
Finally the Neos became a noisy political presence and applied threats, and in some cases violence against anyone who didn’t do things their way. And the wimpy authorities, terrified of being called racist, refused to put things to a vote until after the Neos had became a majority. The speaker knew precisely what he was talking about. He was south Florida Cuban.
Trivia. During the Russian-Finnish war of 1939, none of the Finn dead were buried on the battlefield. The frozen corpses were each taken to a hospital, thawed, and washed. They were then dressed in nice clothes and taken for burial to the town where they lived before the war. At the other extreme, the Soviets left hundreds of thousands dead in the forests, claiming they had only 350 casualties and took those away when they left.
I discovered this information looking up “The Sausage War”, a true story that is hard to get the facts about. The Russians were so ill-fed that during one breakthrough, their soldiers ran across the Finnish field kitchens which had just made sausage soup for 2,000 men. The Russians went wild, ignoring their officers, to get at the food. The Finns counter-attacked and threw them back overnight, killing about 150.
