The Willow Glen Resident

Hey you, make that a double (take), please

By Mary Ann Cook

In the world of comedy, it's called a double take. The comedian, stopped short by something unexpected, swings around to get another look at the speaker. In the everyday world, it's something you hear that catches you up short. Snatches of conversation, say, that are basically unnerving--startling, even.

Such as hearing a doctor complain about his health. I've been conditioned to think that doctors never think about their own bodies, only ours, gallantly, altruistically ignoring their own welfare. I thought it was part of the Hippocratic Oath.

They need to concentrate on the important things: us. Lack of sleep? Wasn't that part of the job description when they took on this lifetime assignment? Aches and pains in their own frames? Forget it. I don't want to hear about it. I don't want to have to admit that doctors are subject to the same breakdowns as the rest of us all-too-fragile mortals.

I'd rather view doctors as bionic beings with a stethoscope, medical marvels not quite of this world, making sure the rest of us stay warm and ticking. They really shouldn't need sleep or sustenance or that weekly change of pace whereby they clutter up the golf course on Wednesdays. I like to think of them as beyond all that human-needs stuff.

Another remark that elicits a double take is hearing a mail carrier complain about the weather. Where have they got their guidelines tucked away? Whatever happened to rain, sleet, snow and appointed rounds? A postal carrier grumbling about the rain, wind or heat gives me a turn. It's decidedly jarring.

The men/women in blue are supposed to delight in and embrace the vagaries of weather, reveling in natural phenomena of all kinds, so they can triumph over whatever nature sends their way.

After all, that's their whole reason for being, the coda that transmutes them from messenger to hero/heroine, that transports them from the everyday to the indispensable.

Doctors and postal personages, these two career categories keep the lifeblood of the community going--in health, in communications, even in these email days--and I, for one, hate to think they could slow down or fizzle out, or even dream of doing such a thing.

Since their functioning is so critical, I expect them to sustain a role, not react like the rest of us, made up of a vulnerable collection of muscles, minerals and flesh. You don't have to see a comedy routine to come face to face with a double take.

[ Back to Contents Page | Willow Glen Resident Home Page | Archives ]