Affairs of the liver...

I have not been neglecting this blog.
I know it seems like it, but I haven't. Things have been going on.
Friday, just as I was about to rant about something important, no doubt only to me...we got the call.
Linda was up again.
"Up" being next in line for a liver transplant at UCLA Medical Center. She has been on their list for a number of years now and because of her blood type has rarely been close to getting a new liver.
There just aren't that many livers around and, unfortunately, somebody has to die to free one up. It's a fact of life we have learned to live with. The irony of the situation is that the only member of the Copper family who ever abused their liver enough to wear it out was...me. Linda's problem is genetic and not anything she could have prevented.
Who said God doesn't have a twisted sense of humor?
Anyway, we spent the majority of the week-end hanging around the hospital. Linda at least had a bed. I made camp on one of the most uncomfortable chairs ever created. I'm sure the designer used to work for the Marquis De Sade. Not only was it impossible to sleep in this horror, it wasn't even a decent place to plunk your ass for more than a couple of minutes. I did a lot of aimless walking around.
People watching at a hospital is almost as much fun as feasting your peepers on the crowd at a county fair or carnival midway. Geezus...what a freak show!! Half of the crowd was on cell phones too; so that provided the added bonus of insipid one-sided conversations as a backdrop.

Here's another situation I've noticed in hospitals like UCLA's: The food in the cafeteria is almost entirely unhealthy. There are islands of cheese pizza and fried chicken, but almost no decent items at the salad bar. I'm guessing that this is all part of the medical establishment's master plan to keep us all in the hospital and our wallets in their "caring" hands. ( I noticed that the patrons of the cafeteria with the most grossly unhealthy items on their trays were....DOCTORS. ) Maybe they know something.

One more observation: I have long noticed that it is almost a given that wherever you go in this country there WILL be some kind of bad music playing in the background. Muzak in elevators, (nothing sounds as cool as 101 Strings rocking out with their version of "Ain't No Woman Like the One I've Got") and people with radios tuned to stations programed by corporate morons. In my years of playing the hits on music radio I thought I had heard all of the REALLY bad songs it was possible to pour into your ears, but NO. In the past year I have been hearing the worst piece of audio garbage EVER produced! It is some insipid tone poem called: "You're Beautiful" by a screeching stooge named James Blunt. I first heard this retarded riff at the gym and dismissed it as a spoof. No such luck. It really is a song and it really blows monkey chunks! It is the worst song EVER!

I would rant on but I've decided to leave while there is still light. I'm going to hunt down James Blunt and SHUT HIM UP!




James Blunt: singing moron







I wonder if he's using his liver? Hmmm....