I could go to the upstairs bathroom, down the hall, without alerting my parents...certainly there was no TV in a safe range (nor any programming after midnight, not even the waving flag and the Star Spangled Banner. it was back in the day when "why stop, ever?" was considered crazy talk) and certainly no music to be had at that hour. even the transistor radio under the pillow was a high crime, if found out.
the October 1960 Reader's Digest, however, was on a shelf in the bathroom. and I am shocked how much of its content I remember.
less the condensed book, which I always skipped...less "I am Joe's Urethra" or "The Most Unforgettable Character I've Ever Met"...less "What the Communists Really Want"...I didn't really even need to increase my word power so much...than "Points to Ponder" or "Towards More Picturesque Speech", "Quotable Quotes", "Laughter: the Best Medicine" , even "Humor in Uniform". and the space fillers at the ends of the articles seemed at the time to me to contain real acquired wisdom- and seem so to me still.
Reader's Digest (not Readers' ? did they think they only had one Reader?) always had this vibe, which I loved, of old people trying to include current references.
it was like the Carousel of Progress, first at the World's Fair in 1964, then at Disneyland, and I think still currently at Disney World, where you'd sit in a small room of seats that went around the perimeter of a circular building, stopping to see dioramas that showed the state of home technology in twenty year increments. "yeah, we don't need an iceman since we got this new electric refrigerator" "oh, it's almost time for George and Gracie...better warm up the radio!"
when I went to Disney World in 2001, they obligingly had an exhibit for the year 2000. it included a voice programmed oven and, I think, a Mac laptop, along with a widescreen TV showing video games. the child yells out, "wow! I finally got up to a thousand!" the oven responds, "setting temperature for a thousand degrees"
smoke and hilarity ensue. ah, the follies of convenience!
reading the birth control pill jokes, wry observations on contemporary morality ("in Hollywood, the comandment seems to be 'Love one another...and another...and another'"), and stories of then-contemporary scientific advances ( "this is a pilotless, completely automated plane. nothing can go wrong...go wrong...go wrong...") now seems like riding the Carousel of Progress. while the theme is still, "it's a great big beautiful tomorrow...shining at the end of every day...", there's an unstated caution behind it all...ok, ok, we give, this is where life is going, but don't let's go too far too fast.
my current radiation schedule brought to mind one of my favorite Reader's Digest jokes.
the schedule is every day at 11am, with Saturday and Sunday off.
and it brings up the most mixed feelings.
like when the dentist's office calls saying they've had a power failure, and can we schedule your filling for next wednesday instead of today.
today suddenly seems much much brighter. we're almost thrilled for the cancellation. but they will be taking out another week's worth of decay when they get in there. it can't hurt less, and you still gotta go.
my first couple of radiation sessions, I thought it was my imagination that things immediately seemed tenser in that area of my neck afterwards. now I accept that that happens. it eases back during the day...and when I lay down and the SCM muscle is spared its assignment of keeping my head up, it's very good for it. the mornings are the best time in general, until the radiation again.
it was said to me that it would be three to three and a half weeks in, that I would start getting tired...five weeks in I would feel a sore throat...also watch for dry mouth, and food losing some taste.
today is treatment 8. and I feel like all of that stuff, in the smallest ways, is there. along with the stiffening every day, and...do I have more tinnitis than I used to?
it's actually kind of an affirming discipline. as long as I say yes, no pain. but shaking my head no really costs me...
I'm a human being. human beings aren't meant to absorb this amount of this kind of energy this quickly.
neither, I suppose, are cancer cells.
women have to get pregnant to get this kind of glow.
weekends off of the treatments are such a mixed blessing. 11am rolls around, and I don't feel worse. what up with that?
the joke is:
the man who minded Big Ben lived in the clocktower. he'd sleep soundly every night, right under the big bells.
one night, a power failure stopped the massive clock.
at exactly midnight, the man sat bolt upright in bed and hollered, "What the hell was that?"
that's my body at 11am Saturday.
p.s. (I'm not going to condense the other important Reader's Digest stories in my life - "'Druther Be Mad", "Wanta Borrow a Jack?"....unless there is unbridled reader demand.)
No comments:
Post a Comment