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Showing posts from November, 2011

On Being Lucky: The Second Anniversary of My Heart Transplant

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     . I was born in 1943, right in the middle of World War II.   It was a bad time for the planet, but it occurred to me about six months ago that children born in the United States during the war were demographically lucky.   The famous "baby boomers" were born after the war when the soldiers and sailors came home, and they created this gigantic population bubble that was right behind me, but I didn't have to compete with them.   When I was ready for my education, the schools were not crowded.   When I wanted a job, they were readily available.   When I decided to go to law school, there weren't hoards of other applicants, so I was accepted by every school I applied to, mediocre academic record notwithstanding. Today, November 23, 2011, I celebrate the second anniversary of my heart transplant (about which I've written a good deal—see "Related Posts" below).   As I did last year on this same occasion, reflecting on this medical miracle h

Potpourri #1

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      . The following is collection of little pieces that, taken singly, are too short for a decent-size blog entry.   I call this post "Potpourri #1" on the theory that at some point there will be a sequel, possibly many.   Send complaints to stop this if you want no more. 1.   "Wake Up, Mr. Tree" When Jerry and I were at the start of our twelve years together (see "Recidivist" in Related Posts, below), he was still in law school.   But three days a week he didn't have morning classes, while I did.   After we moved in together, I'd rise and he'd stay in bed.   When I commented on this, his reply was "I'm not getting up unless you can sing 'Wake Up, Mr. Tree."   This stumped me until he explained that when he was little (Jerry was born in 1959) there was a Columbus TV children's show called "Lucy's Toy Shop."   In each show the children would wake up a seven foot tall tree puppet by singing thi

Good Sex, Bad Sex: Advice on Making Love

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                     . In this blog I've sometimes discussed things I'm bad at ["The Many Faults of Douglas Whaley," "The Only Course I Ever Flunked," and "Mama Cat Saves My Life" are just three examples—see Related Posts below], but I've always had a robust sex life, even---in my twenties---with women.   I once had a couple of dates with a man who lived in Cincinnati (well, "dates" is a euphemism here), and on one visit to that city he took me to a party of his friends.   As he introduced me to the small crowd, he frankly announced, "He isn't much to look at, but—wow—is he hot sex!"   I was both offended and flattered at the same moment.   That very evening I suddenly figured out that he made his living as a thief ("I can get you an almost-new TV at a great price!") and we parted company forever, hot sex be damned. When it comes to making love I have the same philosophy mentioned in this blog fo