October 5th, 2007

Knees and Veterans

Got up yesterday and got as far as the coffeehouse before my knee said it wasn't having any more of this. Took a cab to the doctor, and diagnosed with acute tendonitis and a wee bit of arthritis, and got meds. Took meds -- extra-strength Arthrotec and Vicodin -- got a brace for the knee, got a ride home, and fell over. Got a phone call in there somewhere, from someone who told me afterwards I sound cute when stoned.

Took a bus back to the coffeehouse to retrieve my bike; stopped at the other coffeehouse to make nice on my aunt, who'd been my ride back from the Doc. They were having a live radio broadcast, and the guest speaker was a retired Air Force combat pilot, who was boasting about having used his jet fighter to bomb Bronze Age savages back into the Stone Age. He somehow saw this as an act of incredible bravery and heroism. As the interview went on, it became obvious that he saw himself as the archetype of Hero, and thus any action he took was brave and heroic because it was him taking it. Any suggestion that any of this was *not* brave or heroic was, of course, the act of an anti-american traitor.

I express my sympathy to the veterans of American military actions for having to put up with this boob. My parents are similarly impaired.