My Old Kentucky Home

We finally made a break for it and left Cleveland behind. Don’t think it was easy. Renee was feeling good and did fine with breakfast and lunch. Her body was telling her it was time to go but her head was a little reluctant to cut the cord. The other shoe has dropped so many times before that the prospect of standing up on her own two feet produced queasiness. Facing that long drive made me a little nauseas too so I can understand her trepidation. She was expecting something else to go wrong. It didn’t. It was time.

Required listening:
Same Kind Of Crazy - Delbert McClinton
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mTZaO4BMfPc

We can debate the psychology factor all day long but I’m not sure who with. I read a report in yesterday’s paper that less than one-third of psychologists receive the proper training needed to adequately diagnose and treat their patients. If this is the track you’re taking to get some control over that aspect of your wellbeing than you’ve got better than a 67% chance of picking a quack and spending the rest of your days walking around in your duck pajamas. That’s why I’ve carefully researched the situation. My shrink is Dr. Guinness. Brilliant! I keep sending those bills to my insurance company but they refuse to reimburse me. And speaking of refusals, although there is no denying the high quality of the results, Renee refuses to use my doctor. She says he smells and his prescriptions make me snore – from both ends. That may be true but he makes house calls and as long as I’m not engaged in that bizarre activity called work I can take advantage of his services almost any time.

The drive back was uneventful on the traffic front. All of the construction tie-ups were north bound. We did get a good glimpse of the Ohio Autumn color spectrum and the sunset over Northern Kentucky, although it was mostly with the visors down to shield our eyes from the blinding orb. One stop is all we made. One stop! Not bad for a post-op patient and a bladder challenged old man. We arrived back in the ‘Ville about half past eight. We picked up the child, dog and hermit crab, - yes, Cassidy’s got a crawling crustacean – at the Nanas. “We” unpacked the car and I made it to the couch in time for the ninth inning of the Yankees’ brooming of the Twins. I felt more sapped than the fans at the Metrodome, it took all my strength to carry my eyelids upstairs to bed.

This may sound strange from a couple of Jersey-breds but the Old Kentucky Home sure feels good.