Dr. End Of The World

In my never-ending quest to discover the cure to my on-going ITCHY-ASS, ALL-OVER skin problem (about the best medical explanation I've received so far and that was my own scientifically based self-diagnosis), I found myself returning to the charms of my allergist.

I've spoken of this doctor before. Usually, he's very welcoming in a Mr. Rogers sorta way. No, no, no, not the "Hi. Don't worry, I won't kill you" Mr. Rogers, but rather, the Mr. Rogers who invites me into a cozy teaching environment as he painstakingly talks down to me using small words and drawing pictures of what ails me in the most child-like fashion. Sorta like I'd stumbled onto a "kiddy doctor."

Fascinating and rather endearing (if not at all slightly creepy), I almost look forward to our frequent visits. (Emphasis on almost; I'd rather he find a cure to what ails me). Yet he keeps me on my toes and I never know what he's going to pull next. He's making Medical Appointments Great Again (MAGA! Too soon?)!

We'll call him "Dr. Rogers." Can I call him "Dr. Rogers?" I don't care, from now on he's "Dr. Rogers."

On our last visit (and visits they are rather than appointments, because that's just the way Doc Rogers swings), the surprises kept coming.

"So," he suggested while poking me with Popsicle sticks (and I think he might just be pulling one over on me with this method, but whatever), "you should write an end-of-the-world book."

The good doctor has always found it fascinating that I'm a writer, so I humored him. "I already have," I said, referring to Zombie Rapture, my sorta end-of-the-world, pseudo-zombie, satirically religious, darkly comic horror thriller (which is now out of print, because publishers are having a hard time at it these days, but I digress. Dammit.).

Wide-eyed, Doc steps back. "Did everybody die in your book?"

"Um...well, no. But a lot of people do die. There are a few survivors." It's at this point that I begin to realize he may indeed be the scary, serial killer Rogers type as he seems truly excited about mass deaths.

He says, "Well, we're all going to die."

"Yeah, eventually we all die." I shrugged.

"No, I mean, everyone's going to die soon. Whether it's Covid-12 or Covid-74, it's going to wipe everyone out. The end of humanity. Why?" He scoots in closer, now in full professorial, space-intruding mode, then flips out a finger. "Because A) we're more mobile these days. Back in the days of Spanish Flu, we survived because people didn't have the ability to travel everywhere. Now, Covid's spreading everywhere people take it. And B) the political, moral, and social division over the issues of survival."

"Yep, everyone's politicizing this horrid disease, making it their own while everyone's dying. But, with the vaccines--"

"And if Covid doesn't get us, then global warming will."

"That's what scares me," I said.

"It's true. We're all gonna die," he continued. "I heard it on NPR."

"Well...if you heard it on NPR, then it must be true." Couldn't help but get a little snark in, but I think it went over Dr. Doomsday's head as he was on a roll.

Suddenly, Nurse Save-the-Day bursts in.

"He's written an end-of-the-world book." The doc gestured at me. "Now, I'm telling him about my book where everyone dies. It's like that song I was singing the other day, about the end of the world..." He stared off into a dreamy apocalypse, while snapping his fingers hoping to grasp the song that eluded him.

I offered, "'The End of the World As We Know It,' by REM?"

He nods, points at me, and says, "That's it." So he starts singing it. I join in. The nurse rolls her eyes and remains silent. But I didn't want to leave on such a somber note, always leave 'em wanting more!

But as I drove home, I realized how right Dr. End of the World was. But it wasn't really Covid or global warming that was going to get us, but rather people's stupidity and selfishness.

Get your vaccines, people. Mask up. Socially distance. Quit being dumb. Don't make me come over there.

(For God's sake, I went to the doctor for itchy skin and all I got was an end-of-the-world lecture).

Hey, let's jump into the Way-Back machine and visit a time when people weren't as mobile and there wasn't a dreaded plague wiping out the population. I'm talking Ghosts of Gannaway, my historical-fiction, ghost story, mystery, suspense thriller about the small mining town of Gannaway, Kansas where there're some mighty good folks butting heads with some particularly nasty rich folks. Ghosts, too. Lotsa, lotsa ghosts and chills. But no epidemic...wait...almost forgot about the Yellow-Eyed Fever... But don't let that stop you from visiting scenic Gannaway RIGHT HERE.

 

 

Nature is Revolting!

No, wait... I'm not talking about the kinda "revolting" that best describes a lot of America's behavior these days, or the Kardashians' newest show, or the wacky antics of our Dorito of a president.

Nope, I'm talking about how Nature is actually rebelling against us, a coup d'etat if you will. Turns out Alfred Hitchcock was quite prescient with his film, The Birds.

Need more proof? Here are the facts (none of that "fake news" stuff goin' on here, nosiree-bob-cattail!):

FACT: The birds in my 'hood are getting bolder and braver. Robins aren't afraid of me anymore. This weekend, I was pushing my mower (and sweating and cursing and crying in misery; it wasn't pretty) through the yard. A robin sat in my path. And he watched me. Finally, one foot away, he took flight just to come right back. They've been inching closer, staring at me with their lil' birdy, beady eyes... Planning...

FACT: Lately, when I've ventured outside to sit on our deck swing, a hugely obese, three-legged, golden cat is sitting in the swing. Several times. He glowers at me like a James Bond villain's cat, and growls before sauntering off. 

FACT: We have daytime owls who can't tell the difference between night and day. I'm talking big ol' horned owls, the kind usually found in cartoons wearing glasses and a scholarly cap, dispensing wisdom to the fledglings. But these owls don't dispense wisdom. Instead, they dole out TERROR! They swoop and screech and hoot and attack. Quite the showmen.

FACT: The other night I awoke to such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. (Sorry...) There were loud thumping noises coming from the first floor at 2 or so in the morning. Now, I'm not overly fond of getting shot by burglars so I didn't go downstairs, but rather stomped around for a while. Then I opened the door at the top of the stairs and listened. Nothing. The next morning I carefully crept around the house. The covering over the fireplace had been pushed open, the wine rack in front of it had moved. Something had fallen down the chimney and made its way into the house. I'm still waiting for a rabid badger to jump out at me from his hiding place in a pantry or something.

FACT: When my wife goes outside, angry squirrels pellet her with nuts. Then they glare at her.

FACT: Ants are marching through our kitchen, and nothing--I mean, NOTHING--kills them! We've tried a lot of remedies. My wife even started sprinkling around this awful looking yellow powder. I asked her what it was. She said, "Basically, it acts like broken glass and tears their insides apart." I thought, how horrible...and now our kitchen's gonna be littered with thousands of bleeding ant corpses. Well that hasn't happened. Yet. But DOUBLE FACT: the ants have invaded my nightmares!

FACT: Mother Nature's none too happy with us right now based on the way we've treated her since the beginning. Hence, Global Warming. Yes, I know roughly half of America doesn't believe in it, but c'mon, who can argue with the crazy weather patterns that are just getting crazier?

I could go on with more FACTS, but I've illustrated my point. Now, why is this happening, you ask? I have the answer for you. 

Nature's sick of the crappy way humans have been behaving lately. They'd like the world to be pleasant again.

I mean we have riots based on injustices (hell, I wanna protest because I'm sick of the Corona-weight I've put on recently!), outta control cops wailing on people and reporters (when they're not shooting them), name-calling, hair-pulling, a regular wrestling venue (only real), stupid people running the country, smart people bounced because they disagree, racism, sexism, people still finding ways to destroy the environment on big and little scales, reality television, and all of it led by our very angry POTUS. 

You don't see animals behaving this...well, barbaric.

I tell ya, the world's going to the birds (as they gather for their annual fly-by over my car to make it look like a massive paint-ball victim).

Speaking of bad things happening to people because of the way nature's been mistreated, check out Ghosts of Gannaway, a true (kinda) ghost story based (looser than an elephant's skin) on the heart-breaking (pure ballyhoo!) saga of Picher, Oklahoma.