What Can You Do With A Shmata?

Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band are keeping my company while I stroke the keyboard and whisper silent requests to a moon that reflects the silence back upon me.

Got the echoes of a conversation with a guy who at the office who asked the only Jew he knows what can you do with a shmata and are they fun.

“I could tell you stories, boy I could tell you stories and yeah you can do all sorts of fun things.”

“Like what?”

“Bubba, that isn’t your business now is it.”

Bubba cocks his head and asks if I would mess with him and I smile and say never.

“You know Gefilte Fish is the king of all fish.”

“Yeah, you said something about that.”

“Never have told you about the Shmata Queen now have I.”

“No, but now I am curious. Tell me about her, or it, assuming you are not messing with me.”

“Oh no, you are not prepared for that. You couldn’t handle that.”

“So you think you can handle this Queen of Shmatas and I can’t.”

“Bubba, this Queen of Shmatas would level you. She already destroyed me but I survived dancing in the fire and rose like the phoenix. Besides once you go Wilner you never go back.”

Bubba says he can’t decide if I am trying to bullshit him or if there is truth in what I have said.

“You tell some crazy stories and you do with way too much ease. Makes me nervous.”

I laugh, smile and say “that is the point, isn’t it.”

They Gave Me The Wrong Pills

Doc tells me it is time take some pills and that he’ll need to see me again in three months.

“We’re going to do so more tests and then you’ll come back and we’ll see where things stand.”

I ask some follow up questions and he says there isn’t anything unusual for a guy my age and that if I do what he suggests some things will probably improve.

We go back and forth some more and he tells me he wants to double check my BP.

You have big arms, I don’t think the PA got an accurate read.

“The machine I bought for the house has the extra large cuff. Can’t brag about that to anyone but my doc right.”

We both laugh and he checks me out again and says he is going to write a prescription. I tell him to give it to my drug dealer down the street and I’ll start popping pills tonight.

****

As I walk away he tells me not to be too hard on myself about some of this and I wonder if my face gave away more of my thoughts than I realized or if the words gave away something.

Unless the next set of tests show something unexpected things went better than I had anticipated and I am grateful. Shows the effort I have been putting in has had a positive impact and reminds me again that genetics play a huge role.

I look in the mirror and it is clear I got my father’s frame. Bigger and broader than my grandfathers were but just short of the 6 feet that my uncle and paternal great-grandfather hit.

Could weigh exactly what I am supposed to and I still wouldn’t be able to buy a suit off of the rack, shoulders are too broad and arms a hair too short.

Been like this my entire life, always on the outside looking in but rarely concerned because it is all I have ever known.

Dreams Die Hard

Bob is singing and my heart is in the east, eyes searching for home.

Bubba wants to know if I really thought about moving to Israel and I tell him it is true.

“Would you have joined the army?”

“If I had moved, yeah, I figured I would because I wanted to be more than just a tourist.”

“Would you go now?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t hesitate. I didn’t expect that.”

“Why?”

“Because that is a big move.”

“I have made a few of them. I am not afraid to take a risk. I have a bit of wanderlust in me, kind of unrooted. Takes a lot to get my attention and hold it for decades. I am inclined to get answers to the questions those things raise. I like knowing if it is just an idea or more.”

Seger moves on to Somewhere Tonight and I am dissecting the lyrics and thinking about stories I know and those I haven’t yet discovered.

Not prepared to accept what I have been told because statistics are built upon numbers that include outliers and maybe I can be one.

The news isn’t bad but I don’t like it because I am not ready to be told I am like other men in my fifties and just let it go.

I still have that fire inside and I don’t wear a sweater because someone else is cold, so maybe I can do something with that.

And if I can’t, well what have I lost, nothing in my mind.