Mental Imagery

As I was leaving the hospital tonight, I noticed this sign in the doctor's lounge:

"Medical Grand Rounds this week: Pushing the train out of the tunnel- New treatments for constipation."

Sunday night, 8:55 p.m.

"Hi, this is Liza Shakin. I had a seizure today. You don't need to call me back, I just wanted to let you know. I'm in ER, and they're going to do a CT scan and some labs to find out why I had one. Anyway, I'm calling to leave a message for Annie, because I need my epilepsy pills called into the pharmacy since I ran out 2 weeks ago, and I keep forgetting to ask you guys for more. Thank you."

Life in Line

I went to Costco yesterday to stock up on Diet Coke and return a video game.

The lady in front of me in the return line had one of those outdoor heaters (the tall ones, like you see at restaurants) in a cart. But it was in several pieces, scarred black with fire & smoke stains, with the metal twisted, and in some places melted. It had clearly had some sort of catastrophe.

So the guy at the counter takes her receipt, and says "Was there a problem with the item?"

"Hey, wasn't this in an Alfred Hitchcock film?"

I guess there are ways to kill people that aren't in the game "Clue".

Such as this.

Thank you, Webhill!

And yes, she was serious

Dr. Grumpy: "Any history of cancer in your family?"

Mrs. Twelfhouse: "No, my parents were both Pisces."

Reasons I use Rogaine

Mr. Doofus: "I had an MRI at Megatron Imaging in 2007."

Dr. Grumpy: "Hang on..." (picks up phone, calls Megatron Imaging) "Hi, it's Dr. Grumpy. Do you guys have an MRI on William Doofus? No? Are you sure, from 2007? Okay, thank you." (hangs up) "Sir, they don't have an MRI on you at all."

Mr. Doofus: "I changed my name in 2009. I had it legally changed to William Doofus."

Dr. Grumpy: "What was it before?"

Mr. Doofus: "Howard Moron."

Dr. Grumpy: (dialing Megatron MRI again) "Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?"

Mr. Doofus: "Because I don't like being called Howard."

April 14, 1912

The story of the Titanic's band, playing to the end, has an honored place in history.

Even the last song they played still remains debated (it was likely a popular ragtime piece called "Songe d'Automne", not the hymn "Autumn" and almost certainly not "Nearer My God to Thee" as commonly believed).

But, for all their bravery, so much about the band is unknown.

They were all employed by C.W. & F.N. Black, a talent agency with a monopoly on supplying the British Atlantic steamship trade in 1912. If you wanted to work on the ships, you shut up and signed with the Blacks, and took whatever they offered. In 1912 it was roughly $6 (USD) per month. You had to buy your own uniform.

The musicians really worked for the Blacks, NOT the steamship company. So they technically were passengers, not crew. To get around this White Star Line listed them as 2nd class passengers, who just happened to have free tickets. Of course, they didn't actually get to stay in the decent 2nd class cabins- on the Titanic the musicians were stuck in crew quarters next to the potato washer.

Even worse, since they were passengers, when they arrived in New York they had to go through immigration and show that they each had $50 (borrowed from family at home) to prove they weren't destitute- even though they then immediately had to get back on the ship to start preparing for the return voyage.

What often isn't realized, either, is that the Titanic had 2 bands- one for the 1st class dining room (5 members) and a 2nd for the Café Parisien restaurant (3 members), that had entirely different arrangements.

And so that night, with the Titanic slowly sinking beneath them, these 8 "passengers" played together for the first time. Unlike the other passengers, who were trying to get into lifeboats, these 8 men stayed on, trying to calm people with music until the sloping deck made it impossible to do so.

As best as we know, they were not ordered to do this. They each chose to. And so they all died in the icy waters of the North Atlantic, 99 years ago tonight.

But the story, tragically, didn't end there.

Jock Hume was a violinist in the band. On April 30th, 1912, his grieving parents received this kind letter from the Blacks talent agency:

"Dear Sir, We shall be obliged if you will remit to us the sum of 14 shillings, which is owing to us as per enclosed statement. We shall also be obliged if you will settle the enclosed uniform account.

Yours faithfully,

C.W. & F.N. Black"

The statement included charges for their son's uniform (by now, along with him, at the bottom of the ocean) and costs for a lyre lapel insignia & sewing White Star Line buttons onto his jacket.

Many of the musicians left families behind, who asked the White Star Line for compensation for their loss. After all, they were covered under the Workmen's Compensation Act, weren't they?

Nope. White Star Line responded that the bandsmen were, after all, just passengers on the Titanic. Since they weren't crew members, they weren't covered at all.

So the families asked the Blacks to help. The talent agency had insured it's employees, and told the families to contact the insurance company.

And what did the insurance company do? Well, they said the bandsmen were independent contractors, using the Blacks as a booking agency only, and were, after all, just 2nd class passengers on the ship, not employees.

So in spite of the brave deaths of their loved ones, the families were not going to be compensated at all. A judge ruled in favor of the insurance company, that the musicians were voluntary passengers, and therefore not employees of anyone.

Fortunately, a large charity set up after the disaster, The Titanic Relief Fund, decided to help support the bandsmens' families like those of other lost crewmen. The memorial flier at the top of this post was sold on street corners in 1912 to raise money for them.







Wallace Hartley was the bandleader, and 1st violinist, for the Titanic, and likely the one who organized the other musicians to stay until the end. He was engaged to be married, and had reluctantly accepted the Titanic job (he wanted to get out of being a ship's musician) to try and make contacts for future work. He was 33 years old.

His body was found floating off Newfoundland a few weeks after the disaster, and (to my knowledge) is the only band member ever recovered. He's buried in his hometown, Colne, in Lancanshire. The opening notes of his favorite hymn "Nearer My God to Thee" are inscribed on the base of his grave marker, above a violin.

Love and marriage

Dr. Grumpy: "How's your memory been?"

Mr. Amana: "I'm doing fine."

Mrs. Amana: "You're NOT doing fine! Last night you couldn't even remember how to work the microwave!"

Mr. Amana: "So what? It's the most complex damn thing in the house."

Mrs. Amana: "That's beside the point. I have no trouble working it."

Mr. Amana: "Could have fooled me. I have to eat your cooking."

Home life, Tuesday afternoon

Mrs. Grumpy: "Hello?"

Phone girl: "Hi, I work for Bozo's Air Conditioning, and we need to schedule a time to come install your new unit."

Mrs. Grumpy: "I scheduled it with you last week, for this Wednesday."

Phone girl: "Why yes, it is scheduled for Wednesday. Do you mind if we do it on Thursday instead?"

Mrs. Grumpy: "I can't on Thursday. I already scheduled a substitute nurse to cover me on Wednesday."

Phone Girl: "Oh. Sorry. We'd just prefer to do it Thursday, because that day is empty, and we already have an installation scheduled for Wednesday."

Mrs. Grumpy: "I need to do Wednesday. How many other installations do you have listed for that day, anyway?"

Phone girl: "You're the only one."

Today's criminal tip

Remember, people, when stealing a car, you SHOULD NOT ask the police to help you pay for gas.

Like this guy.

High maintenance

Yesterday afternoon I was in my office, waiting for a new patient. Mary came back, and told me I needed to come talk to the patient's wife at the counter. So I went up front.

Dr. Grumpy: "Can I help you, ma'am?"

Mrs. Wife: "Yes, my husband is down in the car."

Dr. Grumpy: "Is he okay?"

Mrs. Wife: "He's fine, but it's raining."

Dr. Grumpy: "Yes."

Mrs. Wife: "He hates rain."

Dr. Grumpy: "Uh-huh."

Mrs. Wife: "Look, can you come out to the lot and do the appointment in the car?"

Dr. Grumpy: "Why can't he come up here?"

Mrs. Wife: "He doesn't like the rain."

Dr. Grumpy: "Do you need an umbrella? I can loan you mine."

Mrs. Wife: "He doesn't use umbrellas. He's superstitious."

Dr. Grumpy: "I'm afraid I can't help you. I don't do car calls."

Mrs. Wife: "Can I reschedule to after the rainy season is over?"

Mary (pushing me aside, handing lady a paper): "No. Here are the numbers of other neurologists in the area. Try them."

Run that by me again

Mr. Confuseme: "My mother had Alzheimer's disease."

Dr. Grumpy: "How old was she at the time?"

Mr. Confuseme: "Like really old. She was almost dead. Maybe it was after that. Can you get Alzheimer's after that?"

The art of conversation

I went in to the hospital on Saturday to see a longtime patient of mine. As I was riding up to the 7th floor two guys, both with huge beards, got on the elevator with me.

Guy #1: "It's just shit. I mean, all that shit, ya know, and no real shit to show for it. I'm tired of this shit. Shit, I'm gonna tell her that, cause neither of us needs this shit, and it's just gonna cause more shit, and at some point, shit, it's time to find some other shit to work on. I just don't give a shit anymore."

Guy #2 "Yeah, no shit."

Mutant Kiwi Fruits

Last week I put up a post on the vaguely pedophilic ad for Kiwi fruit that I saw at Local Grocery.

In an unanticipated turn of events, my reader Merinz sent in this picture of a fruit that she picked off her own kiwi plant.

And I have nothing else to say.