"Well, Okay Doc, Stick It Where…!"

Well, the prognosis is good. I went to see my dermatologist and, after all the preliminary silliness with the admitting nurse, she gave me a folded piece of paper, and told me to strip down to my underwear including my socks and put this on. Of course, trying to figure out how to put on that paper "robe" proved to be quite problematic. I was looking for holes to insert my arms and never found one. I looked for some pre-scored dotted line to punch my head through, but there wasn't any. I even tore it, thinking it was doubled up.

So, I thought to myself, this is what we've come to. First, cloth robes made of some flimsy paper seersucker material, and then robes with no backing at all to allow you to "air your differences"whether you want to or not, and now, this!

Later, during the examination, the nurse cracked up when I asked her what was it supposed to cover up!

The dermatologist arrived twenty minutes later and found me seated in my shorts next to a 4'x4' shredded paper robe. With a questioning look, he quickly dismissed some problem areas that I showed him and zoomed in on three spots I didn't think much of. With a look of serious concern, he scratched, poked and squeezed one particular area on my left arm and stated that it was a "ipsoclomaticphallangia fit"… or something sounding strangely similar to a Mass spoken in Latin. 

The guy's a kook...

At my request, attempting to divert his attention from my arm, he goes searching on my scalp for any problems like a monkey inspects and helps groom another monkey in a monkey tree. Thankfully, he didn't find anything there, nor did he pick something off of my dome and eat it! 

Satisfied he didn't find any obvious problems up there, I, once again, got the lecture about vitamin D, ultraviolet rays, and the damage the sun can do. Then, moving the shredded and useless 4'x4' paper robe covering my groin area, he asks…

"Do we need to remove your underwear investigate this area?"

I said, "Gee Doc, I don't think so… "Isn't that where the sun doesn't shine?"

Copyright 2014/Ben Bensen III

"It's A Sin And A Shame My Solo Socks Can't Find A Mate."

Too embarrassed to show any more!

Well, this year I resolve to, once and for all, find the mates to this "rats nest" of lost souls.  I'm tired of making New Year's resolutions to be a better husband, an understanding father, a patient, less critical person and a not so stubborn so and so, not so persnickety, but just persnickety enough, a better reader, a less snarling, foaming at the mouth, alpha male, and a more intense and passionate… uh, painter.

No, that stuff's for sissies…

No. This year I'm gonna find soul mates to some loved but long lost socks. And, that's okay. You can make all the jokes you want about it, like, "the joy of sox,"and "Sock it to me, baby!"and, "It Socks To Be In Love!" "Kawabunga on your KawaSOCKIE!" and the ever popular, "Socks, Dammit Or Darn It!", but I've decided to finally dump those that no longer make sense keeping them.

See, some socks have an emotional attachment that just can't be explained.Take, for instance, that solo red sock in the picture. I've worn that red pair for twenty Christmases. And, it embarrassed my wife every time I wore 'em. I even wore one, one Christmas day, solo with another green solo sock...like tootsied Michael Jackson. I have not found either mate in five or six years.

I have another pair of socks that were so expensive, I would hand wash them and hang them out to dry instead of putting them in the washer and dryer. Man, they were great pair of ski socks and worth every penny on the cold, wet and windy slopes of Mammoth Mountain in California. I always made sure I'd put them back inside my favorite pair of ski boots. The last time I went skiing was the winter of 2005 and I couldn't find the mate, so I had to take a less than perfect pair on the trip.

Needless to say, my skiing performance suffered dramatically. I can't explain that, but I still hang on to the fading hope that one day that missing left sock will return to me.

I now know how Evangeline felt waiting all those years for the return of her lover!

Nowadays, you don't need to darn or sew up a worn out pair because they get separated long before they wear out. Some socks become real favorites like a pair of jeans, but you can't always wear them in dress shoes because they're too thick and comfy. Our son rarely wore dress socks because he never went anywhere he felt was that formal. But, I knew that once I'd loan him a pair of dress socks, only one returned.

Against my better judgement, I allow my aged mother fold and put away our clothes. It provides her with something to do which, in turn, also helps me. But, I can't believe where I sometimes find some of my socks. So far, she keeps them pretty well in pairs, but I once found two pair in the kitchen drawer with the towels.

Now, I just have her fold the clothes!

So, though this will be heart breaking, and my toughest New Year's assignment in years, though it is September, darn it, I am bound and determined to toe the line, heel the hurt, and sock it up to see this to it's unmatched end.

Undefeeted...

Copyright 2014/ Ben Bensen III

"Ready Or Not, Here We Are...2014."

No resolutions till later, ha! 

Well, here we are, 2014, ready or not. 

I hope everyone at Paschal Sabatella's South Pasadena Villa survived. We use to have a tradition, of sorts, on New Year's Eve and Day. 

We'd walk, from our home, to go see how well the South Pasadena float entry to the Rose Parade was doing. Then, it would be over to Pascal's family bash which would go well past midnight. Great food, good friends, and lots of "Italy." It was fun. Tee, Brian and me, would then, get some shut eye till dawn and take off to see the floats lining up and finishing their last minute floral adjustments. We usually drove to a close spot, then walk the entire length of Orange Grove Avenue checking out the pre-parade scene.

Around 8 am or so, we'd go to our good friends house at the southern end of Orange Grove Avenue for Ramos' Phizzes, breakfast and the televised version of the parade.

By bowl game time, most of us were passed out in the Walker's living room or headed for home to sleep/watch football.

Good times, great memories...

Today...we're kinda laying low. Kinda overdosed on coffee and chocolate chip cookies while watching a game between Duke and Texas A&M.

No resolutions till later, ha!

Copyright 2014/ Ben Bensen III