everybody says I am fine

At the doctor's office. Everytime I visit my PCP the first thing she asks is "Hello Tina, how are you?" And I am all for courtesy. No problem. I mechanically answer: "I am fine. How about yourself?" And she gives a fleeting smile, and a brief "Fine", then asks "So, what seems to be the problem today?" As IF that is a whole other question! And both of us magically forget within a nano-second that I was oh-so-fine why just a nano-second ago!
Now all of a sudden, this last visit, which by the way was yesterday, it occurred to me that the first impression I made to the doc until today has ALWAYS been a lie! Of course. Don't you see it? I mean How much Fine can I be when I am evidently at a Doctor's office? I mean what the hell am I doing at a Doctor's office if I am really Fine? That just piles on Health-Insurance-guilt of some sort on my already hunched-back conscience. (and now that it's Obama's presidency, everybody is either aware or bewared about the Health-Insurance scenario. even that dog on the street knows. if the Alsatian is having unprotected sex with the Dalmatian, he better be aware that the puppies to come might just as well have mummy's spots. and no amount of "out, out damned spot" can ever have them removed. and of course no spot-lightening medicinal cream for dogs yet. ) I mean, of course I am not fine! why don't I just say it? What is this compelling need to say "I am fine" ? or is it all about being positive, and perpetually smiling, and sort of maintaining the corporate code wherever we are, and whatever might our professions be! everything has become an acceptable lie, and nobody is expecting the entire truth. Perhaps, not even the doctor at some level: something like, it's ok to complain about the chest pains or heart burns, and even the stomach ache with the constant diarrhoea or constipation... but draw the line right there woman! I don't need to know, and you don't need to give me graphic descriptions of the color, size and shape of the stool neither the silent farting all night, with or without the smell. That's just too much information. save some for later? Don't just say whatever comes to your head. I mean who does really want to hear something like "o my life is a gaping hole, and the sun spots seem smaller and more promising instead; but who could bear the heat or else I'd go live there! and since I can't tell you all this and make myself look like a pathetic loser or a constipated whiner, let's just say... "I am fine."' Fashionable. Expected. Succinct. Corporate. Time-saver.
Anyway, so yesterday. for the first time, when the doctor asked me "Hello! How are you tina?" I replied "Not so fine actually." nothing emotional about it. just an honest answer to a doctor. I realized it's safe at the doc's office to come up with replies like that and not seem cranky. She wouldn't be probing my heart. just probing my body.

From the movie: Play it again Sam

Sam (played by Woody Allen; says this to a stranger woman at an art gallery): It's a lovely Jackson Pollock.

Woman: Yes, it is.

Sam: What does it say to you?

Woman: It restates the negativeness of the universe. The hideous, lonely emptiness of existence. Nothingness. The predicament of man forced to live in a barren, godless eternity like a tiny flame flickering in an immense void with nothing but waste, horror and degradation forming a useless straightjacket in a black absurd cosmos.

Sam: What are you doing Saturday night?

Woman: Committing suicide.

Sam: What about Friday night?

Woman walks away.

Professor's Cat

So after class, Professor talks about his wife. We, the TAs, are walking with him towards his office when a friend of mine decides to ask him, "Doesn't your son also teach at Stony Brook?" The professor replies in the negative,with added humor,"I don't have a son. I have a cat. Two cats." He tells us that they were originally named, "Chaos" and "Catastrophe." But he soon realized to his dismay that even though "Chaos" is fine and manageable without having it abbreviated, "Catastrophe" on the other hand was catastrophically difficult to pronounce in one go, and it invariably reduced to "Cat" instead. So having said that, my professor concludes "but you can't call a cat, Cat. So we renamed her, "Fishum" ' So now I guess, Cat has become Fish :) Oh well, what's in a name after all.

Heaven Can't Wait

So a little girl asks her father, why we go to heaven? And if we do, hey why do we come back! That just makes no sense. errrr... Why are we born, she asks, if we are to go back to heaven, and coming from there in the first place. What is the point of all these moving?

So here's the funda. Heaven is an overcrowded place. Really, really lacks breathing space. People fainting on top of each other, waiting in line. It's like waiting for Beatles ticket if they'd come back from the dead for one last performance... Can you imagine the headcounts in the stadium? Hitler's gas chambers would be less crowded! So to avoid this extremely unhygienic, claustrophobic heaven, G-d sends a whole bunch of people to earth from time to time to clear out Heaven congestion... because the traffic at this hour is unexpectedly high... (because for some time now, God is in a generous mood and giving out fliers for Free-Heaven. And angels shouting slogans from high rise buildings, "Free-Heaven with Free-Food! Come join us! Help our cause"). And little India packed in Little China would be a fitting analogy for this crowded Heaven... people fainty and frustrated, falling on top of each other, and bickering at each other, cutting lines, pushing, pulling, showing the middle finger, moving in this crowded place, unwashed, stinking, growing lice, passing lice, and before it should get any more congested, G-d decides to send whole bunch of people back to earth. Essentially, to get some breathing space in Heaven. And very soon God will perhaps come up with a new idea.. a new amended heaven... with better sanitary system, perhaps. Or it maybe that G-d will do away with the whole heaven and hell discrimination. Now, tell me, does it really help to have all the goody two shoes in one place, separated from all the bad folks in some other place? I think not. Nobody will ever learn anything, then.