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Yosemite morning

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Quick roadie

I have just returned from another whirlwind trip up to Sonoma and back. I picked up a painting and some nice pots up there. Left at five in the morning Friday, pulled in to Sebastopol around three in the afternoon. I have much more driving energy in the morning than the afternoon. Felt pretty good.

Had a lot of very expensive material in the car and decided to go to an out of the way motel in the central valley that I am familiar and comfortable with, rather than be in a big city worrying somewhere. Brought everything in to the room with me, of course.

Unfortunately somebody had a heart attack or something next door so it was ambulances and spinning red lights all night and I was exhausted yesterday morning. I had to reroute to my pottery restorer in Bakersfield to pick something up. Thankfully it was only 97° driving through Avenal this trip and not 109° like last week.

I was completely exhausted. Finally pulled into a medical building with a little shade in Chino Hills and took a twenty minute snooze that gave me just enough rest to make it home.

Not too much more interesting to talk about on the trip. I had friends that didn't want to see me without me testing covid negative on Friday. I was at the Flying J in Frazer Park when I self-administered the test.

Unfortunately the cap fell in between the seats. I couldn't get it so I decided to just tear off the ampule and after the requisite mixing, pour it on the test strip by eye. I got a false positive after ten minutes and sort of freaked out.

No drug stores on the five in the central valley and I was out of kits. What to do? I found a gas station in bumf*ck and started querying people at the Tesla charging stations. A hillbilly ferrying high school girls soccer players said no but a sweet asian man wearing a Jesus loves me shirt who was giving his kid a piggy back ride gave me a kit and refused to take money for it.

Thank you, kind stranger. I tested negative. Whew! By the way, my intimate companion also tested negative yesterday, a big relief.

Not much else. Hit an antique mall or two in Bakersfield that were rather depressing. Had a pretty mediocre veal marsala in Los Banos, didn't have the strength, energy or appetite to do basque this time.

A truck drove by with a steal your face Grateful Dead hot air balloon tucked into the bed. Couldn't grab the shot with my phone in the split second I had.

This will be a busy week, month and summer, everything is packing together tightly and I have a lot of commitments and responsibilities,  Hope I can keep it together. Still haven't got word on a biopsy date.

Speaking of, this is the sign at my urologists office. 

Think it is pretty funny that they have a Doctor's Pe and Dr. Dicks, juvenile that I am. 

Dr. Wang must have retired.

All of the other doctor's including my own Doctor Salem, have such ordinary names.

I guess Doctor Dicks was destined for urology from birth.

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In keeping with the general theme, Jerry Hall sends this one over.



4 comments:

Scrota said...

Unterberg is Moravian for 'Hanging Ballsack'.

By the way, Dick Cavett said Groucho called him at 3am to ask
if he knew Peter O'Toole had a double phallic name? I think the past
pitching coach of the Giants could commiserate...Dick Pole.

Ripley's Believe it or Don't

Blue Heron said...

comment of the year, scrotum.

island guy said...

Antique malls in Bakersfield…..once a picker, always a picker. Glad y’all feeling better.

Anonymous said...

Phone rings:
Urology, will you please hold.