vituperation

Every time I turn on the TV or the radio, it’s the same thing. A somber voice in a badly made commercial intones:

“Have you or someone you love been diagnosed with mesothelioma? Mesothelioma is one of the most deadly diseases known to man, and is completely preventable. Mesothelioma is caused by exposure to asbestos, and malignant mesothelioma kills thousands of Americans every year. If you have been exposed to asbestos and have mesothelioma, or think you might be at risk for developing mesothelioma, we can help. If one of your loved ones has mesothelioma, or has been in contact with asbestos and is now at risk for developing mesothelioma, we can help. Just call the law offices of [name] at [number] for your free mesothelioma risk guide. You may be eligible for large settlements.

I mean, seriously. They say “mesothelioma” about 800 times in the course of a 30-second commercial. In the television version, there’s nothing on the screen except for the word “mesothelioma”. And I see and hear these things every single day.

What happened? Did some group of lawyers win a big class action lawsuit against asbestos companies? Lawyers in cases like this tend to take upwards of 40 percent of any settlement they get against a company, so to justify all these scary commercials there must be some serious money involved mesothelioma lawsuits.

Is anyone else getting these things at all, or are all the mesothelioma lawyers focusing on Huntsville? And does that mean I might be at risk for developing mesothelioma? (That’s a joke. Everyone knows I’ll die falling off the mountain.) The strange thing is, none of the lawyers in all these mesothelioma commercials are in Alabama, so my guess is that these commercials are running everywhere, even though they look cheap and local.

So what’s the word? Are you being inundated with commercials by lawyers looking to get you a big mesothelioma settlement?

Friday morning, as I sat in line at the credit union to deposit my paycheck, I noticed that the extra important man in the car next to me was involved in an animated conversation on his cell phone. We pulled forward, a little at a time, as the lines in front of us moved. The credit union here is huge, and there’s most always about 30 people in line at the 6 drive-through windows.

We got to our drive-throughs at the same time, after about 10 minutes of waiting. I put my check and the deposit slip in the pneumatic tube and sent it off to the building some 100 feet away. And then I got a demonstration of just why it is that assholes on cell phones annoy me so much.

Despite all the signs, despite ten minutes of waiting, Mr. Important next to me waited until he was actually AT the drive through to fill out his deposit slip, talking on his phone the whole time. He finished, put the slip and a check into the carrier, and deposited it in the holder outside his car.

And turned all his attention back to his cell phone without pressing the button to whoosh the carrier to the teller.

I stared at him.

I looked at the carrier, just sitting there in the pneumatic whoosher thing waiting for him to hit the big “Send” button.

I looked back at the long line of people behind him.

I willed him to look at me, for I am a NICE GUY ™. When he did, I made a motion designed to indicated to him that he needed to pull himself away from the cell phone for a second and look at the whoosher thing just outside his window.

And the motherfucker pointedly looked away from me, talking the whole while.

So I waited for my deposit to get finished, and left without trying again. Though I do feel sorry for the people who were in line behind him, a small part of me hopes someone got out, hit the button for him, and then rammed his cell phone up his ass.

This morning, as I sat at my desk contemplating yet another weekend day of putting together jigsaws and watching Smallville, something occurred to me:

For the first time in three weeks, my shin didn’t hurt, no matter how I moved my foot around.

I think we all know what that means.

What’s the best way to see if I’m really healed? The steepest trail on the mountain, of course.
Note how clearly you can see here…

…as opposed to the higher elevations

Up at the top, it was downright foggy.

Five+ miles, at a slower than normal pace, and absolutely no shin splint pain. I think I may be healed, praise Jesus.

I apologize for not updating more often, but I’ve been working on my new memoir, A Million Little Fleeces. It’s about my heroic struggle—and the time I spent on the seedier side of the internet—to overcome my addiction to winning at internet poker. While it’s not factually correct, this memoir speaks truth to countless gullible people, so no will mind that I lied if I’m ever caught.

You may not be aware, but I published an excerpt from the memoir back in April of 2005.

Update: I’m selling some Thomas Kinkade jigsaw puzzles.