I’m sitting at the Cracker Box, having lunch with a few of my old buddies. We promised long ago we’d never dwell on our latest ailments or surgeries, but we can’t help ourselves. So much medical stuff is going on with us that we begin to out-story one another’s latest episodes before we even recognize what we are doing.
Then Willard, overweight and under-exercised, who has never seen the inside of an emergency room, says with unearned wisdom dripping from each word, “Well, fellas, all your unfortunate medical dilemmas sure turned out better than the alternative.”
Mike, Johnny and I look at each other and dutifully nod our heads.
Next week, we’ll meet again for lunch at the Cracker Box. Willard will not be joining us.