Best If Used By--

Elgin Mental Health Center

CASE NUMBER: 1-226-GD

PATIENT: Rae S*****

DATE: 08-16-2014

[Cough] Ahem…, What is your name?

Rae S*****.

And Ms. S*****, what is your date of birth?

July 17, 1952… er, 1965.

Who is the current president of the United States?

Barack Obama

Who was the president before him?

George W. Bush

Subtract 3 from 20 and keep subtracting 3 from each new number, all the way down.

Sure, but wouldn't it be better if I begin by subtracting 3 from 21. Because if I begin with 20, I'll end up with a negative number at the end, unless you want me to stop at two--

Ms. S*****, do you know why you are here?

Yes. This is a home for crazy old people and you're giving me a mental acuity assessment. You want to determine if I'm mentally fit to continue living independently. And I am, you know… mentally competent, I mean, not old.

That determination will be made by a team of certified professionals, Ms. S*****. Now, one of your children told us that you have some food products in the home that are well past the "use by" date--

Which one?!  Was it the middle child? You know I told her I was sorry that I'd forgotten her birthday the past two years, but--

Ms. S*****, it is not important who gave us this information, only that this information is accurate-- 

Or was it my older son? I seem to remember him going through my spice cabinet recently. I told him that those 'best used by' dates are mere suggestions--

Ms. S*****, do you understand how your inability to maintain a safe home environment could be symptomatic of a more serious mental impairment?

No, I didn't. I mean, it's not like I aspire to be the President, or a psychiatrist, like you, or something--

Ms. S*****. I'd like to continue our conversation regarding --

By the way, how's the food here?

Ms. S*****, your grandson says that you called him no less than four different names before you were able to correctly recall his name.

Tattletale.

Your husband tells us that you recently drove your car into your neighbors driveway, seemingly unable to differentiate it from your own driveway.

Oh, so he's the one behind this is he? Listen, between you and me and the lamppost, I may have had a couple of glasses of chardonnay. And in case he blabbed about it, they never proved that I was the cause of that power outage. Besides, my brother-in-law said that as long as I dug only six to eight inches deep next to the underground electric power box I'd be fine.

Ms. S*****, I understand you were recently seen walking the streets with garish makeup and colored streaks in your hair--

I was playing beauty shop with my granddaughter. How was I to know  she was using semi-permanent--

What is this called?

A pencil, looks like a number two. Say, you're rather tense, Doc. And I notice that you bite your fingernails and grind your teeth. So do I. You know,--

My personal habits are not of relevance--

Bet you've got tinnitus, too.

What is this called?

You asked me that one already, remember Doc? It's a pencil. Oops, you broke it. Holding it a bit tightly I suspect--

Please spell the word 'world' backwards.

D-L-R-O-W. Say, are you getting sufficient sleep? You look a little tired. It could be one of the central causes of your nervousness. Now, I know in my case--

Ms. S*****, thank you. This examination is over. You may go.

Thanks, Doc. Have a nice day!

News from Beyonder

I stop in occasionally at the local Shell station, where a tall, lean fellow with carrot-colored hair waits on me. He's an engaging young man, probably around 18 or 19 years old. One day I find him reading aloud from a local rural newspaper. It's a brand new publication, which is actually a consolidation of four rural area newspapers, kind of like a Reader's Digest of small-town papers. 

"...he was held on $150,000 bond… ," I hear the young man say before he happens to take notice of me. "Oh, sorry," he says, "but this is the most fascinating thing I've read all week." He pushes the paper aside and waits on me. I glimpse the name of the paper, "The ?? Review." It costs 75 cents, and I add a copy to my tab. I take it home and my husband and I are immediately hooked and are considering a subscription, lest we miss something when we are away.

It has the usual classified ads, updates on local student/athletes who're doing well in school. You know those, "Those on the Chancellor's List"-type articles, but also more enticing ones like, "LRA Approves Land for Marijuana Use," "Who is the Mystery Girl in this 1950 Photograph?" or an article about the local county jail with a pregnant inmate and no means to care for her. Oh, and my personal favorite, "Courthouse News," where I can see which of my neighbors has been fined or arrested lately, and more importantly, why?.

A recent article I enjoyed: "Village of ??-ville Gets Sticker Shock from Sidewalk Replacement Bids." The article gave the minutes of the town's village board meeting, which included their debacle over the sidewalk replacement which had to be "shelved." But, I especially enjoyed the part about 'the business from the floor.' The accounting went something like this:

"The board recognizes Ms. Connie Sternation." 

"Yes, thank you. I was wondering why the village does not currently recycle?"

Village vice-president: "Ah well, yuh see, honey, we looked into that, yuh know. We talked about it once and we figured it would cost the residents 2 bucks more per water bill. We decided it waddn't worth it. All's we could afford at the time was a dumpster and we figured ever'body and their uncle would be stoppin' by to dump off their junk and just leave..."

Ms. Sternation: "Yes, but with all due respect, all of the surrounding towns currently recycle. I feel it would be a beneficent endeavor for our town. We should be looking to the future effects for our children and for our children's children." 

Town V.P.: "Well, sugar, yuh see, we already got the seniors collectin' pop cans and cardboard and such… "

Ms. Sternation: "Sir, there is more to recycling than aluminum and paper. The company I work for recycles everything, including plastic, glass, metals and electronics. Why did you know that plastic and styrofoam can last anywhere from 50 to upwards of 350 years in a landfill? It certainly seems to me that two dollars per water bill is a pittance when we consider the impact on our environment..."

Town V.P.: "Sweetie, we got people on fixed incomes here in town…" 

Ms. Sternation: "Would it help if I were to initiate a petition?"

Town V.P.: "Okay Toots, I'll tell you what, we'll put it on the agenda for next month. We'll see how you do."

***

I've learned to keep my mouth shut suggestions to myself here in Privatopia. If you make a suggestion to our board you will either a) be shot down faster than a beer chaser after a shot of whiskey, or b) find it approved quicker than you thought possible and guess who's now in charge of overseeing and implementing it? You, who suggested it, of course.

"She," a member of our Privatopia board of directors, and I were driving to the women's weekly bowling league.

She had been droning on about outlining the varied topics being proposed by our sagacious board members. This is the perfect time to ask, I thought.

She, do you think the board would consider allowing homeowners from Privatopia to have small chicken coops on their property?"

Now, I already happen to know from bowling that She has what poker players call a tell. A "tell" is a subtle change in her demeanor indicating she is troubled or overly-happy.  Like, when She isn't happy with the current situation at bowling, like oh, I don't know, like her teammate just missed picking up an important spare, She has this subtle tell: her voice goes up a full octave and a few decibels, She frowns and begins to gesture in a jerky manner. Or conversely, when She is doing well, her voice goes up a full octave and several decibels, She beams and begins to gesture in a jerky manner, "Turkey! Turkey here! Gotta turkey goin' here!"

So I notice her tell when She tightens her grip on the steering wheel (while driving on an unmarked, chip and seal, curving, undulating country road), her voice rises and becomes louder, "Whadaya nuts?!," her eyes now are off the road and narrowly focussed on me, "The community is already having problems with the waste produced by the hundreds of thousands of animals from the surrounding farms out here!"

At that moment an old, gray-muzzled, broken-eared German Shepherd from a local farm wanders onto the center of road in front of us and stops. I shout mention, "Um, you do see the dog in the middle of the road, right?"

She hits the brakes and swerves, then regains control of the car. Back again with her poker face and staring straight ahead, She replies, "Yes, I saw the dog." Followed by, "And you can forget about those chickens."