by Slim Randles
“Waal,” said Windy, stirring his coffee. “I hate to do this here, but I’m afeerd a whole bunch of it’s Doc’s fault.”
This announcement coincided with Doc coming to join us at the counter here at the Mule Barn Coffee Shop and Desperate Dilemma Depository. Yeah, it’s kinda like that.
“So Windy,” Doc asked, flipping his coffee mug to the upright and fillable position, “what have I done now?”
“Oh, Doc,” Windy said, “ain’t so much you as it is doctorin’ in the general, you know. You guys go to school until you’re 72 and have to stick us with words we don’t know, can’t say, and don’t need.”
Doc waited and looked at his old friend before adding sugar.
“Ya see, Doc,” said Windy, “ever since I found my ownself approachin’ middle age …”
“Yeah, Windy, but from which end?”
The laughter eventually subsided a little. Enough to allow for more ideas.
“Wellsir, them doctor guys come up with diseases and pills nobody else can say proper like, and not even the girl at the drugstore kin spell ‘em right. Like fluteraginatic flim-flams. Heck, it you had ‘em you’d have to write down how to spell them, and it still wouldn’t tell ya what the pills do.”
Windy looked around. “So I’m gonna fix that. Yessir, ol’ Alphonse Wilson’s gonna straighten out the wonderful world of medicine and make it easier on real people. Got a couple examples here of my real people translations. Like ‘ Quitcher.’ See? It’s a real people translation of stomach pills. It’s short for Quitcher Bellyachin’.”
Doc nodded. “I think you’ve got something there, Windy. Let me know when you get to ‘Migraine is Just Like Yore Grain,’ Will you? And I’m buying the coffee this morning.”
Sometimes science can be amazing.
———-
Windy, Doc and the rest of the bunch may be found in the book Home Country from Rio Grande Press. http://nmsantos.com/Bookstore/Misc-Books/Home/Home.html
