and each year it appears more true

I post this each year. It’s E.B. White from 1952, writing in the New Yorker.

From this high midtown hall, undecked with boughs, unfortified with mistletoe, we send forth our tinselled greetings as of old, to friends, to readers, to strangers of many conditions in many places. Merry Christmas to uncertified accountants, to tellers who have made a mistake in addition, to girls who have made a mistake in judgment, to grounded airline passengers, and to all those who can’t eat clams! We greet with particular warmth people who wake and smell smoke. To captains of river boats on snowy mornings we send an answering toot at this holiday time. Merry Christmas to intellectuals and other despised minorities! Merry Christmas to the musicians of Muzak and men whose shoes don’t fit! Greetings of the season to unemployed actors and the blacklisted everywhere who suffer for sins uncommitted; a holly thorn in the thumb of compilers of lists! Greetings to wives who can’t find their glasses and to poets who can’t find their rhymes! Merry Christmas to the unloved, the misunderstood, the overweight. Joy to the authors of books whose titles begin with the word “How” (as though they knew!). Greetings to people with a ringing in their ears; greetings to growers of gourds, to shearers of sheep, and to makers of change in the lonely underground booths! Merry Christmas to old men asleep in libraries! Merry Christmas to people who can’t stay in the same room with a cat! We greet, too, the boarders in boarding houses on 25 December, the duennas in Central Park in fair weather and foul, and young lovers who got nothing in the mail. Merry Christmas to people who plant trees in city streets; merry Christmas to people who save prairie chickens from extinction! Greetings of a purely mechanical sort to machines that think–plus a sprig of artificial holly. Joyous Yule to Cadillac owners whose conduct is unworthy of their car! Merry Christmas to the defeated, the forgotten, the inept; joy to all dandiprats and bunglers! We send, most particularly and most hopefully, our greetings and our prayers to soldiers and guardsmen on land and sea and in the air–the young men doing the hardest things at the hardest time of life. To all such, Merry Christmas, blessings, and good luck! We greet the Secretaries-designate, the President-elect; Merry Christmas to our new leaders, peace on earth, good will, and good management! Merry Christmas to couples unhappy in doorways! Merry Christmas to all who think they are in love but aren’t sure! Greetings to people waiting for trains that will take them in the wrong direction, to people doing up a bundle and the string is too short, to children with sleds and no snow! We greet ministers who can’t think of a moral, gagmen who can’t think of a joke. Greetings, too, to the inhabitants of other planets; see you soon! And last, we greet all skaters on small natural ponds at the edge of woods toward the end of afternoon. Merry Christmas, skaters! Ring, steel! Grow red, sky! Die down, wind! Merry Christmas to all and to all a good morrow!

And this year especially to friends who are facing the worst life has to offer with particular courage and strength. You know who you are.

Upon the occasion of driving to the house of a friend, and requiring medicine en route

So,

I took on a mission to bring salome_st_john coffee in order to get cookies.[1] On the way I needed to visit the 7-11 to get antacids, because I require them to avoid choking up and vomiting, always[2], and I was out.

I got the two coffees at Peet’s, secured them, and headed to the 7-11. I was nearly sick in the car on the way; past time to fix this problem. Delaying the inevitable with a long drink of water from the bottle in the car, I took a deep breath and charged in.

I got my Pepcid Complete[3] and trotted back out to the car to take it.

Pepcid Complete, as purchased in the 7-11, comes in a matchbook-like cardboard foldover. Inside there are two little envelopes, each containing one pill.

The envelopes are made from a foil-like substance[4] with a paper backing. On one edge of the envelope there is a line drawn, with a scissors icon next to it. The type says “fold on this line, then tear at the slit.”

I folded along the line, which was difficult; it was very close to the edge. Nothing like a slit was evident. Tearing at the line was fruitless. The situation was still urgent, and I used increasing force. Coarse words passed my lips. I bit and tore in a canine way, heaved at the thing with fingers and nails, repeated these things. A tear did open along the line, but this was too far from the center of the envelope to release the pill, which still sat swaddled and safe. The canine tearing resumed, with appropriate snarling included. No joy.

I now understood my fate. Modern medicine had been defeated by modern packaging, and I was in a suburban postmodern wasteland rotting from the inside, unable to reach my salvation, as in a bad short story.

Guzzling water and praying not to lose it again, I drove the mile to salome_st_john‘s place and rushed in, demanding scissors. I was saved.

Notes

[1] This is a very good way to spend two bucks.

[2] Since puberty I have had acidic stomach and GERD beyond belief. It’s crummy. Nothing fixes it. Oh well!

[3] This is a combination of chewable antacid and a dose of famotidine which is an ideal quick-acting solution to sudden acid indigestion. I recommend it.

[4] I have nothing but admiration for the inventors of this remarkable substance. At first it appears to be simply paper and aluminum foil. Fifteen minutes into the process I realized that I had in my hands some miracle of materials science, developed perhaps for the Stealth Bomber, which managed to be soft and ductile yet completely untearable; it could only be cut by a sharp blade. Kudos!

Delicious LiveJournal Links for 12-21-2008

RECEIVED

The Vancouver Supercomputing Apartment sent me wonderful things, including a ROASTING PAN which will ROAST all kinds of things! Many thanks to stimps!

mendel and nyxie sure know how to pick a holiday card.

My sainted family gave me a little Canon digital camera, which will make it much easier to catalog horrible ads, ugly people, and cute animals.

I received books, which I shall read! Including some Paul Auster, Umberto Eco, and other delights for HI-BROW FOLKS such as me.

I did not get a rock.