An acquaintance and a friend were talking about Bears football jerseys.
“I hope they don’t wear those orange jerseys,” says friend.
“Oh me too, they are so ugly. Blech,” says acquaintance.
“Really, I like the orange jersey,” says me.
“They’re embarrassing, come on,” says friend.
“I think they’re cute,” says me.
“Well you’re not from Chicago; it’s a Chicago thing,” says acquaintance.
“That’s right, you’re from Kentucky, you have no taste,” says ex-friend.
Two:
There is a new chronic pain control device for migraine and spinal cord injury sufferers that implants shock delivering electrodes into the brain or spine.
This makes me kinda nervous first because I wouldn’t want someone going into my brain or spine. But I understand that if this were the only thing that worked for someone suffering from chronic pain, then I sympathize with their need for implantation.
The second reason I am nervous about the new device is that it is operated by a remote control. Imagine--me with a remote control that activates electrical impulses in my body:
“Ow! I turned it up too high accidentally! My leg won’t stop twitching!”
“Crap, I lost my remote control again. Any idea where I put it, Matthew? I feel like garbage and I really need it. I guess it could be anywhere since I lose everything eventually.” (Insert mental image of my haphazard apartment.)
“Awk! Why am I getting zapped? What’s happening? Oh my God, the dog is standing on the remote control! What the hell, she’s killing me! Matthew, get the remote control from under the dog!”
Three terrible scenarios, mounting in horror, each totally plausible based on my actual life. I also imagine the cat batting around the remote control under the bed like a catnip filled mouse toy. Zap! Zap-Zap!
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