The dreaded C-word
The other day (Monday, December 7, 2009; Pearl Harbor Day) I happened to meet my old friend Kathie Meredith at the Canandaigua YMCA.
Long-term readers of the mighty Mezz recognize Kathie Meredith as the previous editor of their Steppin’ Out magazine, a weekly tabloid treatment of arts and entertainment in the Canandaigua area.
In fact, her position goes clear back before Steppin’ Out, when the magazine had another title I can’t remember.
I used to do a file for her of live entertainment in local night clubs.
It was drudgery, and I always felt I was doing an inferior job due to inability making phone calls after my stroke.
But she always seemed to be happy with it, and was usually cutting it.
Steppin’ Out only published one day a week, Thursdays.
By that time I was doing the newspaper’s web-site, and had been advised to not waste time on Steppin’ Out.
But it didn’t take that much time.
Kathie usually ran a color center-spread, so I’d do the picture and her story.
This might take 10-15 minutes.
I got so I’d page through Steppin’ Out, and flew just about every locally-written story, many by Kathie.
Doing so didn’t take that long — perhaps five minutes per story.
Often the story might have an accompanying picture.
It printed black & white, but if it was color originally, I ran that.
I rarely ran black & white photographs on the web-site, but if I could grab a good color original, I ran that.
Not everything, of course. It was a function of how much time I had. But if a picture was attractive enough, I’d make time for it.
“So how’s the Mrs.?” Kathie asked, lowering her eyes and voice.
You should know my wife is parrying the dreaded C-word, although that’s nowhere near as bad as it sounds.
As far as I can see, I’m coming home to the same wife I’ve been returning to almost 42 years.
Content to do laundry, and get down on her hands and knees and scrub floors.
And put in a garden every year, and tend shrubbery.
The other day (Sunday, December 6, 2009) the Avon lady stopped by to drop off a catalog.
“Where’s Linda?” She asked, lowering her eyes and voice.
“Up the street. She’s walking the dog,” I said.
“Awwww....... How’s she doin’?” she asked, with a pained expression.
“For heaven sake,” I thought to myself. “She’s not at death’s door.”
We’re parrying cancer, but a lymphomic tumor got zapped by chemo a while ago, and now she’s taking hormone pills for something else.
Cancer doesn’t seem to be the death-sentence it was a while ago, but I worry about it.
The Avon lady drove up the street, and found my wife.
“You look fine!” she crowed.
“Tried to tell ya,” I thought later.
“Tell Linda we’re thinkin’ about her,” Kathie said.
Well, I can; but I don’t think people understand yet; that cancer is no longer a death sentence.
• The “mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired almost four years ago. Best job I ever had. (“Canandaigua” [“cannon-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city nearby where we live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 15 miles away.)
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, and it slightly compromised my speech. (Difficulty putting words together; e.g. phonecalls.)
• “Linda” is my wife of almost 42 years.
Long-term readers of the mighty Mezz recognize Kathie Meredith as the previous editor of their Steppin’ Out magazine, a weekly tabloid treatment of arts and entertainment in the Canandaigua area.
In fact, her position goes clear back before Steppin’ Out, when the magazine had another title I can’t remember.
I used to do a file for her of live entertainment in local night clubs.
It was drudgery, and I always felt I was doing an inferior job due to inability making phone calls after my stroke.
But she always seemed to be happy with it, and was usually cutting it.
Steppin’ Out only published one day a week, Thursdays.
By that time I was doing the newspaper’s web-site, and had been advised to not waste time on Steppin’ Out.
But it didn’t take that much time.
Kathie usually ran a color center-spread, so I’d do the picture and her story.
This might take 10-15 minutes.
I got so I’d page through Steppin’ Out, and flew just about every locally-written story, many by Kathie.
Doing so didn’t take that long — perhaps five minutes per story.
Often the story might have an accompanying picture.
It printed black & white, but if it was color originally, I ran that.
I rarely ran black & white photographs on the web-site, but if I could grab a good color original, I ran that.
Not everything, of course. It was a function of how much time I had. But if a picture was attractive enough, I’d make time for it.
“So how’s the Mrs.?” Kathie asked, lowering her eyes and voice.
You should know my wife is parrying the dreaded C-word, although that’s nowhere near as bad as it sounds.
As far as I can see, I’m coming home to the same wife I’ve been returning to almost 42 years.
Content to do laundry, and get down on her hands and knees and scrub floors.
And put in a garden every year, and tend shrubbery.
The other day (Sunday, December 6, 2009) the Avon lady stopped by to drop off a catalog.
“Where’s Linda?” She asked, lowering her eyes and voice.
“Up the street. She’s walking the dog,” I said.
“Awwww....... How’s she doin’?” she asked, with a pained expression.
“For heaven sake,” I thought to myself. “She’s not at death’s door.”
We’re parrying cancer, but a lymphomic tumor got zapped by chemo a while ago, and now she’s taking hormone pills for something else.
Cancer doesn’t seem to be the death-sentence it was a while ago, but I worry about it.
The Avon lady drove up the street, and found my wife.
“You look fine!” she crowed.
“Tried to tell ya,” I thought later.
“Tell Linda we’re thinkin’ about her,” Kathie said.
Well, I can; but I don’t think people understand yet; that cancer is no longer a death sentence.
• The “mighty Mezz” is the Canandaigua Daily-Messenger newspaper, from where I retired almost four years ago. Best job I ever had. (“Canandaigua” [“cannon-DAY-gwuh”] is a small city nearby where we live in Western NY. The city is also within a rural town called “Canandaigua.” The name is Indian, and means “Chosen Spot.” —It’s about 15 miles away.)
• I had a stroke October 26, 1993, and it slightly compromised my speech. (Difficulty putting words together; e.g. phonecalls.)
• “Linda” is my wife of almost 42 years.
posted by BobbaLew at 9:26 AM
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