Daves Comments and quips
The question asked of me today on FB, what was the grossest food you ever ate? This was my true answer: Ok, France on my Honeymoon..cold, drizzling, terrorist bombs exploding, and “The Dinner.”
I asked the waiter, “Do you speak English?”
he said, "NO."
I pride myself on eating anything so I randomly picked a dinner. Something that looked like a giant sausage appeared and it looked bad, and reeked a little.
Remember that scene from Star Wars when Han Solo cuts open the TonTon to keep Luke warm? I cut into this thing and the odor was overwhelming, like DOODY.
Then, I asked the waiter, I kid you not, “ People EAT THIS HERE? (My diplomatic skills were weak)."
I bravely took a mouthful and swallowed: It tasted as bad as it smelled. Later, I found out it was “Stuffed Intestine,” which, I guess, is a sausage?
TRUE STORY TIME!
I was at a presentation on Lyme Disease directed to a large group of health officials and pest control operator's. It was held at a beautiful conference room in a hotel.
A representative from Dow Chemical who manufactured a tick pesticide was presenting. The man was young, extremely nervous, and started to stutter minutes into his presentation. Finally, when he lost his train of thought, the FUN began.
"Now, Lyme disease is transmitted by...by...uhhhh, infected DICKS. What? What did I say, I meant TICKS. So sorry, oh my God. Ok, uhhh, now, you find infected dicks, TICKS, in the BUSH."
At that point the entire audience was completely in hysterics. There is actually a part 2 to this story, for another time.
There were three firsts in my life. All three happened in one day.It was my first colonoscopy, the first time I was ever put under full anesthesia, and my first open-back hospital gown.
There were at least five steps: a pre-screening, a meeting with Dr. Dasani, a two-day prior diet, the one-day prior diet and chemical cleansing, and then the big show. When I met Doctor Dasani the first time, he wanted to go over the procedure, but I had already checked out Web MD and spoke to many of my FB friends and family.
I said to him, “Doc, correct me if I’m wrong, but you will somehow borrow the Hubble Telescope next Wednesday, squeeze it into my butt, pilot the thing though my intestines looking for binary stars and pulsars, and then wake me up when it’s over?”
When he stopped laughing he tried to explain it like this (Indian accent): “Mr. Volpe, the camera is no bigger than my pointing finger (I hope he uses the camera, and not the finger I am thinking). Then, we look for polyps and if we find them, we cut them out.”
Later I Googled polyps and got this, “a solitary or colonial sedentary form of a coelenterate such as a sea anemone.” They must have gotten in when I was swimming in the ocean as a youth.
Armed with all my new knowledge, a one-page syllabus on the procedure, and more information from my friends, I stopped at the supermarket on the way home. From my syllabus, I bought yellow jello (There’s ALWAYS room for jello!), beef/chicken bouillon cubes, and ginger ale to mix something that tastes horrible with. Then I stopped at the pharmacy and handed in my script.
The pharmacist, a girl who looked like she was 22, had advice for me too; “Sir, I am sorry you have to do this, but it’s for the best. You also have to pick up an over-the-counter med to aid in the cleansing.”
This probably wasn’t a good time to ask for a date.
Lying in bed that night, trying to fall asleep, I developed a new colonoscopy analogy in my mind; it is like a moon shot (pun intended). There are a team of scientists watching monitors as you enter the launch pad. A nurse says, “Please remove your pants and underwear, and lie face down on the platform.”
I make a mental note to memorize the color of my underwear because I have heard stories about dentists. As I start to lay down flat on my stomach, I see the ship out of the corner of my eye up near the ceiling, the letters NASA emblazoned on the side. It must be equipped with propellers or rocket engines because it will navigate through miles of intestines, right? It also must have laser beams to kill the polyps.
This is like Fantastic Voyage except I will not be meeting Raquel Welch. Since the ship is not manned, there is probably a camera sending images to the pilot and co-pilot. There must be a weapons officer to fire the laser as well. I wonder what happens if there is a power failure during the procedure or a monitor goes down? Do they abort the mission?
Suddenly, a new thought occurs to me, how does the ship enter this unknown part of space? Then I remembered a movie called “The Core” with Hilary Swank. Of course, the ship must have some type of a corkscrew mechanism in the bow. Next, I understand there is a count-down, except they tell YOU to start counting backwards….10…9…..8…..7……6….but you never get to hear them scream “IGNITION” because everyone says you go unconscious at 9 ½.
You are asleep now as they travel through your innards. At some point there must be a signal to hit the retro-rockets and head back, probably when they see your tonsils. They say the next thing you know, someone is tapping you on the shoulder and telling you to wake up and put your underwear back on.
Now, my father has said he did this more than once. Supposedly, I will feel “great” because there is no food in my body to slow me down. He took it a step further and said, “You may like it so much, you’ll want seconds.” That is hard to imagine.
EPILOGUE: I am home from the “procedure.” The reality was waiting for two hours in a hospital gown because the person before me had “complications.” Then an aide told me the doctor wanted to “sterilize the camera.” Hey, I’ll wait a week for that.
Some young nurses on the other side of my curtain were discussing how many times a week they wash their bras.
I swear, if one of the male patients said “diarrhea” ONE MORE TIME!
My little waiting area had the linen closet in it so I met the ENTIRE staff.
Going BACK for my necklace. Thank you to my sister, Ramona Volpe , for driving me and taking me to lunch!
The END. – Dave Volpe
The POL Salem Witch Adventure
Disclaimer: I will try and tell this tale lovingly with no disrespect to either of the two POL members involved. I will not use names or post photos that might identify them.
There was a time when I was obsessed with America Online and the chat rooms. My favorite room was Physicians Online (POL). The people there were friendly, for the most part, sometimes met in the flesh (literally I later found out lol), and generally had a raucous good time.
This particular story began with a self-proclaimed "Witch" who lived up near Salem, Massachusetts (I think), and a female member who, like me, enjoyed adventures. The exact sequence of events that led me and, let's call her J, to spend a weekend at the witch's house, is fuzzy.
One Saturday, J. drove to my house from south Jersey, left her car in my driveway, and the two of us headed out to Massachusetts. We arrived at a beautiful railroad house. This style was traditional and historic for the area and was basically a gigantic, long, rectangular shaped dwelling.
J and I were very nervous at that moment because we did not know what to expect. We cautiously, knocked on the door, and to our surprise, a woman who was not unattractive but looked a little like a witch opened the door with a big, warm, smile! The witch took us on a tour of her house which was lavishly appointed leading us to believe that she had money. After that, there was a series of events that were somewhat surreal to me, and I will relay some of the highlights.
The witch took us into town along a woodsy road in a convertible sports car (mustang?). She liked to drive fast so my memory is the wind, the conversations, and woods flying past. There were two shops I remember in particular, one being an antique store where I bought a lithograph, and the other was a witch's supply shop of some kind. That was where I saw a thing of beauty, a knife made entirely of stone; the handle was petrified wood, blade made of onyx, it was embellished with pewter and the handle was capped with a quartz crystal.
I am known for being a little frugal, but I was on "vacation" and had to have it. The Witch told me it was called an "athame," or ceremonial witch's knife. My next memory was being back at the house.
The doorbell rang and several young people entered, both male and female. The Witch introduced them to me and "J" as her coven. At this point, I think this is where J started to become nervous/scared. She kept trying to catch my eye, even suggested not staying the night.
The coven were particularly interested in the pendant around my neck. The pendant was a Celtic symbol for a warrior. I explained to them I was an ex-wrestler and I related to it. After consulting with the Witch, they decided I needed to be purified (?) and began chanting words at me.
We all sat and engaged in friendly conversations which led to the revelation that a ghost inhabited this house. They told me the ghost lived in the back of the basement and perhaps I would like to meet him (I know what you are thinking at this point, or maybe it was what I was thinking; I could disappear and never be found lol).
J was beyond scared by now so I decided to descend into the basement alone with the coven behind me. As we walked further toward the rear of this long cavern, it got darker and darker, until it was almost pitch black. On the way, the Coven told me who the ghost was, and even his name. apparently, he had been a revolutionary war soldier named Bob? They kept asking me to clear my mind and feel his presence.
Then, one of them said, "Stop, he's in front of you Dave. Can you feel him?"
OK, so I lied and said yes. The next phase involved me introducing myself and asking him questions, the coven answering for him.
Let's fast forward. I survived the basement and it was time for bed. J and I were put in separate bedrooms. The witch seemed to be taking an interest in me and was dropping hints (I thought). The bedrooms had amazing beds with beautiful quilts, each with its own bathroom. I was hoping J might even came in to say goodnight, but the witch stopped in instead.
The next day was blurry, but the witch insisted on making pasta from scratch for lunch before we had to leave. She was talking to me while preparing lunch and remarked that she found me attractive. She mentioned a house on the beach somewhere that I could live in. However, quitting my job, separating myself from my children, and moving to Massachusetts was the last thing on my mind.
When it was time to leave, she was distraught and asked for something personal from me, preferably from my body, so I took off my shirt and handed it to her. She then reached up somewhere and removed a hand blown sphere from a wire. She told me it was a "witches ball" and that it would protect my house from evil.
That is all I really want to say without delving into the usual POL mischief lol. I am left with an athame with a new blade since then, a witch's ball, a lithograph, and fun memories. The End
– Dave Volpe
I was shopping for houses in North Carolina with my friend, Kevin Breen, last year. We pulled into a popular southern fast food chain and went inside.
When my turn came the lady said “Ihh it fah heyah aww ta stay honey?” (All in one word).
I was helpless and started to sweat. I turned around and looked at Kevin who was too hysterical to help.
This was my answer to her, “You want me to drive around where?”
At that point she slowly said (because I was obviously the R word), “You have no idea what I’m saying, do you?”
--Say Hey Dave