September 5th, 2017
My family has a history of heart disease. My dad’s father had a chest grabber while mowing his lawn back in August of 1971. The mailman found him face down in the backyard later that day. My dad has had two heart attacks and a quadruple bypass. His younger brothers have both had work done on their cardiovascular plumbing. This is the sort of thing that should give me pause, especially as I am approaching my 60th birthday. However, thus far my blood pressure and cholesterol have been good, so I don’t care that much.
However, our younger son, Stefan, likes to keep me straight. He tends to comment on my eating habits. Here is a sample conversation:
Stefan: “You making a sandwich?”
Me: “Yeah.”
Stefan: “You got enough butter on that?”
“Maybe”.
“I’m going in the refrigerator. I could grab you another stick.”
“That’s okay, but if you are going in the fridge, could you get me the Miracle Whip?”
“You’re going to put Miracle Whip on there TOO?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Eye roll. “Never mind. You know, there are other food groups besides meat, cheese, bread, and butter.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. I did have a pickle.”
Another eye roll. “Do you have enough bread to hold that thing all together?”
“Yes. Bread is simply a vehicle for the other stuff.”
“Is your heart pounding yet?”
“No, I have to eat this first.”
“Enjoy.”
Frank is Emptiness 