Tacos for 99 cents, IQ of Far Less

We like a local place's fish tacos, and Tuesdays are 99 cent fish taco days. So after picking up the kids at camp, I stopped to get a bunch (is school the plural for fish tacos?) for dinner.

My kids noticed a large fish tank inside and went to check it out. Frank yelled "Look Dad! A fish tank"

I said, "that's where they get the fish tacos from". Frank laughed and told me I was silly, while I went to order

The bozo at the cash register looked at me and said "Actually, sir, all our fish is from the ocean and delivered here. The ones in the aquarium are just for decoration".

Stupidity and Reproduction

Another fun morning at Grumpy Neurology, P.C.


Mrs. Dimbulb: "My husband and I want to have kids. How do my migraine pills affect that?"

Dr. Grumpy: "What sort of birth control are you using now?"

Mrs. Dimbulb: "What's birth control?"

Reasons Your Doctor is Prematurely Bald

The hospital I work out of has been transitioning over to an electronic chart system.

This morning, while back on rounds, I dialed in to the hospital system to dictate a consult. I was stunned to be told that my priviliges had been suspended while I was gone for delinquent medical records.

This was a shock, as I treat medical records with an obsession. Every Thursday I stop by medical records and ask if there's anything for me to sign. For the last 6 weeks the girl there has politely checked her computer, then said "Nope, thank you for checking".

So I promptly marched down there:

Dr. Grumpy: "Excuse me, do I have anything to sign today?"

Ms. Helpful: (looking at her computer) "Um, nope. Thank you for checking."

Dr. Grumpy: "Well, when I dialed in, it says I've been suspended for medical records delinquency."

Ms. Helpful: "That's correct. You have over 60 charts to complete, 28 of which are delinquent"

Dr. Grumpy: "WHAT!!! Then why didn't you tell me that?!!"

Ms. Helpful: "You only asked me if you had anything to sign. You have nothing to sign. We are all electronic records now. You don't actually sign anything."

Dr. Grumpy (in shock): "Okay... So how do I complete my records?"

Ms. Helpful: "You have to log into the e-Chart system."

Dr. Grumpy: "No one told me we'd completely switched to e-Charts, or that I had records to complete. How was I supposed to know this?"

Ms. Helpful: "Because the first time you sign in to e-Charts it tells you that".


No wonder my hairs are jumping off like lemmings.

Back to the Salt Mines

On the way home, and reviewing calls from the last 2 weeks that my nurse Annie had marked as "Extremely Non-Urgent". They include:

"Can I get a prescription so my insurance will pay for a Roomba? I'm too tired to vacuum anymore."

"Can a Wii cause Alzheimer's disease? Cause my Dad had played it with my kids the night before his appointment. Can I sue someone over this?"

"Does Dr. Grumpy recommend any particular grade schools in my area of town?" (WTF do people call with questions like this? Do I look like the Shell Answer Man?)

"Which of the summer movies is least likely to worsen my migraines?"

And, inevitably: "I haven't seen Dr. Grumpy since 2003, but can you guys call in some more Vicodin for me?"


And the insanity of my office begins again.

Grumpy Summer Vacation, Day 11

We were in Ensenada today, which was an alternate stop due to the hurricane earlier in the week. In my experience, the best part of docking here is not getting off the ship.

My first time here was when I was single in 1993. A girl I’d met and I decided to try the "Scenic Gold Coast" bus tour. It turned out to be a drive through one of the ugliest areas I've ever seen. I kept hoping we'd come to the scenic part soon, but the bus just stopped at a “deluxe resort” (which was a dump), we each got a glass of shitty watery beer, and then got driven back.

In 2003 Mrs. Grumpy didn't believe me and insisted on going on the same tour, and hasn't questioned my judgment since (about that, anyway).

For you guys considering it, this is the "olympic swimming pool" at the “deluxe resort” that the bus stops at, where they give you a thimbleful of crappy beer and try to sell you timeshares. And you've paid $50 per person for the pleasure. This is not a joke.




It’s a funny thing about Mexico. This is an amazing country. Oil and other natural resources. Phenomenal beaches. Rain forests. A remarkable cultural history. A geographically excellent position. And because of irreparable corruption it remains a third world country. If they could cut corruption and develop a Japanese-like work ethic, Mexico would be a world power rivaling any other.

Mrs. Grumpy and I were in line to get breakfast today, and the omelette cook asked her if we'd be going ashore. She said, “No, I've been to Ensenada once, and that was enough”. He said, “So go back today to make it 3 times”.

Good thing this guy isn’t an accountant.

Today is the last day of the cruise. There are a handful of ways you are reminded of this. The disembarkation talk. The elevator sign having been gradually changed each day from "Maximum: 3000 lbs. or 18 people" on day 1 to "Maximum: 3000 lbs or 8 people” today.

I feel SO fat and bloated. I think I gained 40 pounds. Everywhere you walk on board someone is setting up a new counter of incredible looking food, and you decide you just want a taste. I think I ate 50,000 calories of “tastes” per day. I can barely reach my shoes to tie them.

And, as I noted before, you see lovelorn teenagers walking around, looking for any quiet area to make out. So you occasionally have an elevator door open to find them frantically untangling themselves, or sit down at a table and accidentally step on a pair under it.

The gift shop always has these "last day specials", which they push as if the ship is being scrapped in the morning. They’re somewhat comical, considering that tomorrow the ship will be taking on 3000 new suckers, uh, shoppers, just dying to buy overpriced T-shirts and stuffed animals. Mrs. Grumpy briefly glanced at a canvas beach bag, and immediately an employee came over to try and sell it. She was awesome. "This very good deal, ma'am. Regular price $29.95! But today, just for today, is marked down to $24.95! That half-off!!!"

Good thing this girl isn’t an accountant, either.

After another round of minigolf (with Marie hitting a pair of teenagers making out on a bench 2 decks below) I took her to the bar for some Diet Cokes. We arrived in time to hear 2 mechanics and a bartender arguing about a broken refrigerator. It was great, especially when the bartender said "all the refrigerators on this ship are absolute shit!" I hope the engines and watertight features are better.

The last night has brought the cruise to an appropriate end. Craig is sleeping in the bunk directly above me, and as I was typing he suddenly uttered some of the most dreaded words in parenting: "Dad, I think I'm going to..." followed by a waterfall of partially digested Cruiseship Lines foodstuffs. In the confines of our cabin it brought back college memories I'd tried to forget.

I'm glad we're going home. They may have to scrap the ship to get the smell out of our cabin.

So, from somewhere off Baja Calfornia: Merry Summer Vacation to all, and to all a good night.

Talent Show Update

We went to the Camp Cruiseship talent show to watch Marie dance. I’d post the video, but due to poor lighting it looks like a pair of white socks convulsing to “Who Let the Dogs Out?”.

Craig had signed up to do the Can-Can (Really!), but got stage fright. Frank told jokes with his face completely covered by the piece of paper he’d written them on. For the record, these were their ideas, we didn't even suggest they sign-up.

I have to say that what Marie lacks in talent she makes up for in enthusiasm. This is a family trait. In medical school my class once went to a karaoke bar at the end of test week, and (after several drinks) I got up on stage and sang a passionate rendition of “My Way”. Afterwards my roommate said “Dude, you can’t carry a tune worth shit. But boy, can you SING!”

Unfortunately, Marie was somehow under the impression she might win money for her routine (it’s a show, not a contest), and was quite disappointed to find out she didn’t. So on returning to her seat she loudly asked “Mommy, someday can you take me where I can dance for money?”

Gee, why are all the other parents staring at us?

I Don't Know This Lady

To my horror, Mrs. Grumpy (inebriated on Diet Coke) decided to participate in the ship’s ice cream speed-eating contest. This involved eating 2 scoops without your hands, placing the empty inverted ice-cream bowl on her head, and yelling "Iggy wiggy, I'm a piggy!" before anyone else.

And she blew the rest of the field away, winning big time.

She won a plastic trophy.

Grumpy Summer Vacation, Day 10

At sea again.

My most memorable cruise director was a woman named Suzy, who was on an Alaskan trip Mrs. Grumpy and I went on a few years back. What made her so memorable was that she actually got fired (or died, or was abducted by aliens) in the middle of the cruise. One evening she did the night show, and the next morning announcements were done by "your cruise director, Brent". And Suzy was never mentioned or seen again. At breakfast I looked for her on the sides of milk cartons, to no avail.

The cruise director on the S.S. Humungous is a guy named Goose. I swear. This is not a name I generally associate with cruise directors. When I hear of a guy named Goose my first thought is of Goose Gossage, the pitcher, and my second is Tom Cruise's navigator in Top Gun.

Goose has his own closed circuit TV show every morning, which is imaginatively called "Good Morning with Goose". It consists of Goose, looking remarkably happy and perky, like he's just downed a boatload of coffee and Prozac, answering phone questions from passengers in varying states of drunkenness and/or sleep/caffeine deprivation.

The ability to always look and act happy is a remarkable trait of cruise directors. You can just see them enthusiastically saying “Sorry the ship is sinking, folks, but we have some FABULOUS abandoning activities planned, and a great trivia party in lifeboat 7”. I assume they're specifically bred for this purpose, and in the future Goose will be sent to work stud at a cruise director farm.

Back to the TV show: during our cruise Goose had to deal with all kinds of calls, some reasonable, some pointless, and some downright stupid. I can only assume this happens every cruise. I found myself watching his show, in the same way that it's hard to look away from a car wreck. Goose wasn't doing anything wrong, it was more his callers. So far on this trip he’s received the following questions in response to his ever-cheery "Good morning! This is Goose! What's your question?"

"Hey, why is it windy today?"

"What number do I call to reach your show?"

"I'm worried about our new stop in Ensenada. I thought I read somewhere that they have Mexicans there?"

"My wife and I were thinking about going to Alaska next year. Do they accept American dollars?"

"Goose, I'm really depressed about Michael Jackson today".

“What color is the ocean this morning?”

(slurred voice) "Do you know a hangover cure?"

"Which Van Halen lead singer did you prefer? David Lee Roth or Sammy Hagar?"

"Do I need a passport to visit Hawaii?"

“Was it a hurricane or a tornado we avoided yesterday?”

He also received several calls in heavily accented english telling him what a great job he was doing. I suspected they were other employees.

Sometimes there are calls Goose can't answer. When this happens he whips out a cell phone and calls someone else, then holds the phone up to the microphone. One morning he had to call the ship's "shopping specialist" (I still have no idea how someone could possibly get such a meaningless job). She answered on the 5th ring, and in spite of her denials had obviously just been woken up. Her speech was a tad slurred and she sounded disoriented. Obviously, our hurricane-induced schedule change had caught her by surprise, and she was frantically trying to remember which port we were going into that day.


A passenger, that I hadn't previously encountered was included on this ship. It is Mrs. Dour. This is a thoroughly unpleasant middle-aged woman who has a permanent look of contempt etched on her face. Whenever and wherever we sat down for a meal, or drink, or show, she'd immediately come up 5 seconds later, carrying a tray of food or drinks, and give us a look that told us she'd been waiting for that very same table (sometimes in an otherwise empty room) for the last 6 hours, and we'd just beaten her too it. She’d glare hatefully at us for 15 seconds, then wander off in a huff.

The other passenger who was new to this cruise was Exercise Girl. She was in her 30’s, and every time I saw her she was in gym clothes, with a light covering of sweat, and had an iPod with one ear bud in and the other hanging loose. We saw her 2-3 times each day, always looking like this. One night the twins woke me up demanding to be taken for ice cream at 3:00 a.m., so I took them. And in the hallway, there she was, heading back to her room (maybe she really works in the ship’s red light district, and had just finished a shift).

Marie, Craig, and I went golfing after breakfast. The only other people up on the mini-golf course were an older couple, on board for their 50th anniversary, and fighting like hell. Every single putt-putt hole brought out more snide comments, nasty remarks about long-dead in-laws, and other stuff. It was awesome. 50 years of pent-up hostility exposed by a 9-hole miniature golf course.

Then Marie hit her ball onto the "Serenity Deck" 1 floor down, whacking some poor lady on the back who was trying to relax with a book

Around noon I played basketball. I haven't played in a pick-up game since medical school. In college my intramural team set a record that likely still stands. In a 5 game season we lost our first game 83-10, our second game 75-15, didn’t play the 4th or 5th games because not enough people showed up, and forfeited the last game because we'd missed the previous 2. In other words, we sucked.

Every player dreams of taking the shot that ends the game. And today, it was my turn. I caught a pass at the 3-point line, and was open. I put up an amazing shot. It completely missed the basket. And everything else. The ball is still likely floating around in the Pacific. With the other players glaring at me, I left the court in disgrace. And later received notice that I've been charged $20 for a replacement basketball.

The pools on this trip, although nice, have been a big disappointment. On my past cruises they were warmed to a decent temperature, but here, on Cruiseship Lines biggest ship, they're downright icy. I complained about this to Goose and he cheerfully informed me that they were heating them, and they'd be comfortable sometime before the ship goes to the scrapyard.

Reassured by this I stupidly allowed my kids to talk me into trying the waterslide this afternoon. It didn't seem so cold until I landed in the frigid pool at the bottom. It was like ice. I have no idea what I yelled out, but suspect it had parents frantically covering their kids' ears. I got out, grabbed a towel, and made my way back to my chair. I was choking, and realized that the lump in my throat was something that I used to pee with.

They clean and refill the pools and hot tubs each night. I personally consider this a very good thing, because in the early morning the hot tubs are clear, and by late afternoon are cloudy and yellow.

After dinner Mrs. Grumpy and I wandered off to watch the sunset and have a round of Diet Cokes. While lying out on the stern deck a young couple sat down near us. They were on their honeymoon, and he was already in the doghouse (get used to it, dude). She was chewing him out big time, using such fighting words words as "cheating", "trust", "honesty" and boy, was she pissed.

Since this was far more interesting than the sunset, I paid attention. I mean, if you’re going to have your inaugural fight in public, who am I to ignore such quality entertainment?

Here's the story: She went down to the spa for a few hours, but after a while went back to their room to get a bathing suit. She walked in and caught him “CHEATING” on her (her words, not mine).

I couldn’t stand the tension! Who was he with? Natalia, the hot cocktail waitress? Lucy, the photographer? Amy, the drunken college student? None of the above! She caught him cheating on her with (drumroll, please) HIS PLAYSTATION-3, which he'd secretly brought along on the honeymoon! Yes, this was what landed this poor sucker in the doghouse.

It’s the endless variety of entertainment of this sort that I love about cruising. If anyone from Cruiseship Lines, Inc. recognize their ship in my writing, and wish to give me a free cruise or money for my endorsement, I’m more than willing to accept it, and you can email me. I’m also more than happy to do the “Stroke-At Sea” themed neurology cruise I suggested in this post.

And that's (in honor and memory of Walter Cronkite) the way it is.

The International Crisis is Over

Attention: I've now been issued a replacement Diet Coke card by the purser. Balance has been restored to the universe.

EMERGENCY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I lost my endless Diet Coke card! Stop the ship! Stop the presses! Stop the world! Sound general alarm! Call the Navy! Call the Coast Guard! Call the Boy Scouts!

There are 5000 people on board AND YOU ALL BETTER HELP ME FIND MY F--K--G FOUNTAIN CARD OR YOU'LL BE WANTING TO ABANDON SHIP!!!

Parental Warning

Attention parents: Sooner or later all kids do that thing where they push all the buttons in the elevator, then get off, solely to inconvenience others.

If your child is doing this, however, please teach them NOT to do it by squeezing into a FULL elevator, pushing all the buttons, and then standing there smiling at all the other people in the elevator.

If this sounds like something your kid might have done, and you’re on a cruise, you can find him in lifeboat #3, bound, gagged, and tied to (what used to be) the lunch buffet’s ice sculpture.

Grumpy Summer Vacation, Day 9

Today we were in Mazatlan.

For those of you remember my last visit to Mazatlan, fear not. I didn't get off the ship. In fact, I think the Mexican customs agents have a picture of me and orders to NOT allow me off, after I nearly caused an international incident in March. This may be the first time in history the Mexicans wanted to keep someone OUT of their country.

Although having no plans to go ashore, I got a seat overlooking the gangway this morning, in hopes of filming the excellent performance by drunken musicans that we had a few months ago. I was disappointed, because apparently they were unable to find musicians who weren't inebriated, unreliable, or contagious, and in their place they wheeled out 3 statues of musicians to tower over the gangway, while a boombox played some sort of Mexican rap music. How inviting.

They tell you at the gangway that the local water supply is "usually safe", while simultaneously selling $5 bottles of water under a sign that says "Take Safe Refreshment". So what kind of mixed messages are you giving here? Would you also give a lecture on how it was a low crime area and then sell handguns at the gangway?

Around noon I took Frank and Craig up to the water slide. The ship was empty, most of the passengers having gone ashore. And there was A TURD lying on the deck by the staircase. I ain't talking bird poop, either. I mean a decent sized human waste product, which likely fell out of a passing diaper. I pointed this out to several passing ship employees, who looked at it and then went about their jobs, clearly hoping someone else would take care of it. I even noticed my chatty friend, Officer Mahjong, going by:

Dr. Grumpy "Excuse me, sir, but there's a turd on the deck.''

Officer Mahjong: "A turd?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Ya know, a turd, shit, excrement, crap, stool, BM, doody, poop, whatever, over there on the deck."

Officer Mahjong smiled, laughed, and patted me on the back, "Oh, you funny sir. No worry. Only sailing ships have poop decks" and walked off.

I gave up, told the boys not to mistake it for a Baby Ruth, and lay down with my book. A few minutes later a crewman appeared, wearing an outfit that looked like it could survive plague, fire, or nerve gas. He picked up the turd with a bright red bag, mopped the area with bleach, and vanished.


I hung out this afternoon overlooking the gangway, watching people come back to the ship. They were returning with all kinds of shit. Hammocks, hideous paintings, bottles of Cuervo, ugly hats, clothes, jewelry boxes, and one guy with a sex doll.

A SEX DOLL?

No shit. He actually bought a sex doll in Mazatlan. I must confess, that even in my disastrous tour of Mazatlan last March, I never once saw a sex shop. I guess I assumed they're out there, but never asked where to find them either. I hope he didn't buy it used.

I gotta admit, it takes a special kind of courage (or desperation) to buy a sex doll outside the U.S. and bring it in. I mean, let's face it. You have to bring it through customs on both sides of the border, where EVERYONE can see that you bought a sex doll. And this guy wasn't even trying to hide it under a bag or something. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but had to wonder. Was he using the "It's for a friend" line? Or "It's a gag gift" or was he even trying to make excuses? Inquiring minds want to know.

I mean, this ship is full of hormonally charged singles and this guy is getting a sex doll? Even if he's inept at pick-up lines, whatever happened to good old-fashioned using the self service pumps? Tonight at dinner I'll be looking around to see if he’s sitting with his new companion.


Looking for something to do before dinner, I followed Mrs. Grumpy into the photo store. Here you can buy pictures that the ship's ubiquitous photographers snap when you least expect them to. While standing there, trying to focus on important subjects like when was my last Diet Coke, a teenage guy wanders over and suddenly whips out a picture he pulled off the display. He looked around furtively, like he was about to sell me a watch, or state secrets, or a dime bag. But instead he just said "Hey, Mister, does this picture make me look gay?"

I looked at the picture. It wasn't flattering. I thought about pointing out that it was his lame-ass haircut that made him look gay, but decided to be nice. I was an awkward teenager once, too. I said "I think it's just the way the lighting is".

“Man, if my Dad sees this he'll buy it! How can I keep him from doing that? Can you help me, dude?"

I have no idea why this guy had come to me to save him from a really bad picture, but pointed out the shredding box for people to drop unwanted pics in. He tossed it in there (looking around for his father the whole time), winked at me, and wandered off.

Mrs. Grumpy located the pictures they took of our kids in Camp Cruiseship. Frank and Marie looked cute. For some unfathomable reason, however, Craig had been posed with another boy, one we'd never seen before. Out of 30 kids in their camp group, Craig and this kid were the only ones in a dual picture. Why on Earth would they do that? Why would any parent buy a picture of their kid posed with some other kid who they've never seen before, and whose name your kid doesn't even know? How stupid is that?


After tonight's lounge show we wandered up to get a snack. I mean, we hadn't eaten in nearly 90 minutes, and were famished. So we went to the 24 hour pizza place. While I was waiting in line to order a slice, a drunk guy in his early 20's went up to the pizza counter and had this discussion with Rohan, the pizza cook.

Mr. Drunk: "Rohan, dude, when are they going to re-open the burger station over there?"

Rohan: "The burger station is closed for the night, sir. It will open again at 10:30 tomorrow morning."

Mr. Drunk: So can I get a burger here?"

Rohan: "No, sir, this is the pizza station".

Mr. Drunk: "So how come I can't get a burger over there?"

Rohan: "It's closed for the night, sir."

Mr. Drunk: "So can you guys make me a burger?"

Rohan: "No, we only have ingredients for pizza here."

Mr. Drunk: "I know you do! I mean, otherwise why would I come over here?"

Rohan: "Would you like some pizza, sir?"

Mr. Drunk: "No! I want a burger! Hey, do you know if the burger station is open?"

This went on for another few minutes before Mr. Drunk staggered off to chase a passing herd of Miss Drunks.

The main reason I note this conversation is because many of my posts, as well as those on other medical sites, seem to assume that we are the only field to be cursed with having circular conversation with idiots. I felt sorry for Rohan. Here he was, politely slinging pizza somewhere off the coast of Mexico, and he had to deal with the same idiocy that we have to put up with. I felt like he should get an honorary RPh, RN, or MD for handling this so well.

To answer the question: No, I didn't see the guy and his doll at dinner. Maybe they were in another seating, or went to the buffet instead.

Nosebleed Seats. Please

Marie has signed up to dance in the Camp Cruiseship talent show. Given her golfing skills and dance style (as described here). I hope they leave the first 3 rows empty, like the splash zone at Sea World.

For the Record

This is not me, nor is it our ship, and I have not killed Mrs. Grumpy.

She is, however, accusing me of attempted murder for suggesting she try the Mango Diet Cake. I dodged just in time to avoid getting another black eye.