Pain

Pain comes in numerous forms.

Emotional Pain for Men-When your girlfriend dumps you because of the bald spot you are developing the night the Colts lose in the playoffs.

Emotional Pain for Women-When your balding boyfriend tells you to shut up just as Peyton throws an interception at the two yard line.

Physical Pain for Men-When Bob Sanders hits you in the "soft spot".

Physical Pain for Women-When Bob Sanders hits you in the "soft spot" without his uniform on.

Financial Pain for Men-When you find out that your wife went to the sale at Nordstrom.

Financial Pain for Women-Doesn't happen. All they can remember is how much they saved at the Nordstrom "Half-Yearly Sale".

Back Pain for Men-You ran out of Bud Lite before you were finished with the new landscaping, so you told your wife you had to stop because of your back pain.

Back Pain for Women-Whenever your man starts getting frisky, you tell him you must be starting your period because your back hurts. (Didn't she say that last week?)

Chronic Pain for Men-Women, but we couldn't feel good without them. Sounds contradictory to me.

Chronic Pain for Women-Men, but women tolerate pain better than men. I guess that means we don't need to change. (Right Honey?)

Euthanasia and Other Things I've Yet to Do

Every time I bring up the subject of euthanasia it is just about as popular as talking about the heartbreak of psoriasis and diverticulitis.

Nevertheless, now that I realize there are 1000 things I need to do and 100 places I need to see before I die, it's apparent I am going to miss a few. Hey, I've been occupied with all of the things Boomers have been doing for the past fifty years-working,raising kids, and paying taxes. I imagine I will just need to settle for watching a lot of Discovery HD and wait for the virtual world to become indistinguishable from the real thing.

Anyway, why am I talking about euthanasia? Well, we had to put our pooch, Whoobie, down last week. He was almost twelve and was relatively healthy until this fall, but he acquired one of those rare illnesses that has no treatment. My wife, his best friend, jumped in and gave him the type of nursing care sorely missed in our medical system. It kept the little guy going until the holidays, but he was getting sicker and sicker by the day. People told us we would know when to put him to sleep. It is not something you want to think about, but last Friday we knew. He was starting to suffer and it was time.

The whole thing reminded me of my parents last days. My mother died of cancer and my father of Alzheimer's. Everyone hates to see a loved one die, but in my opinion, their "time" was long before their last day.

So, when my "time" comes and our laws have not dealt with the final days of suffering, I'm catching a plane to Amsterdam, smoking a joint(one of the things I haven't done), NOT going to the Red Light District(one of the things you shouldn't do), and taking a walk to "the other side".