Whining Through a Winter Cold

By G. E. Shuman

          For the past week or so my body has been under attack by a really powerful, very severe, super-duper, humdinger of a winter cold. At least that’s how it has felt to me. I know it sounds wimpy for a big, strapping, virile guy like me, (sure) to be complaining about having a cold, but this one has been a doozy and would likely have killed a lesser man. Also, I’m not afraid to whine a bit when it seems appropriate. This last week has made whining seem very appropriate, so, here I go.

          It’s just been pretty awful. The first night of the cold I couldn’t sleep because whenever I would lie down I would begin to cough, and cough, and cough, and usually wake my wife up in the process. So, that entire first night of my cold I was quite awake. I saw the rising sun come up over the Green Mountains from a recliner in our living room. (Have you ever tried to really sleep in a recliner? It’s pure torture, at least it was for me.)  I did doze a bit after that sunrise and awoke amid a pile of cough drop wrappers, juice cans, and used tissues. It was all very lovely.

          The following night I expected to sleep, from pure exhaustion if nothing else, but did not. Again, I coughed and coughed in bed until I (and my wife) couldn’t stand it anymore and I went again to the recliner for the night. This act was better than waiting for Lorna to succumb to the urge to put me out of my misery.  Or, at least I think it was better.

          This beautiful scenario repeated itself for at least two more nights, (Remember the movie Groundhog Day?) so I basically missed four nights of sleep in a row. This tends to give one a truly rosy disposition and does little to cure a cold. I did try to control my complaining about my misery, saving some of it up for this column. And aren’t you glad I did?

          I’m pretty much convinced that the old common cold is just completely uncurable and probably always will be. I do think I did all the right things people tell you to do to try to get rid of one. None of those things did. I sucked on cough drops, bags of them, which did not stop the coughing and probably raised my sugar level. I got a lot of rest… at least I tried to do that. I drank lots of liquids that succeeded in making me get out of bed or off the recliner to pee many times each night, which gave me something to do, I guess, as I was awake anyway.  I drank cough suppressants as nightcaps, swallowed cough syrup, and popped nighttime cold gel caps, all to no avail.

          If you haven’t guessed already, my adventure into the land of the walking dead (also known as experiencing a severe winter cold) was pretty miserable. Still, today the sun is out, the cough seems to be subsiding, and I did sleep last night. Also, now that you’ve already read all of this, it’s probably stupid to whine about something as simple as a cold. It just didn’t seem so simple at the time.  Thanks for listening.

So, as a postscript, my columns are beginning to show up on my new Facebook page, "George's World"  A friend found it at "George's World blog , if you don't see it immediately. Please share it with everyone.  Warning, you may come to some pretty bad stuff by others, listed as George's World, so be prepared. 

George

My Zipper Problem

By G. E. Shuman

          

I’ve written several times in this space, and once even mentioned it in a novel, that I have a zipper theory. You see, I think that there are some things that, if we ever met an intelligent alien race from another world, they would have discovered or invented just as we have. I believe that things like the invention of the wheel, the discovery of and use of electricity, medical science, (if they need it) and other things like those are probably universal and common among the other people of the stars, (if those people exist.)

          My zipper theory loosely states that the lowly zipper is probably not an item that we and those aliens share. Zippers are something that, until proven otherwise, I will believe are unique human inventions. They are a bit quirky and complicated, at least to me. They were the invention of a singular human brain and might not be something that some other type of brain ever thought of. I even think that there was just as good a chance that no one on earth would have ever thought of something like a zipper, as there was that they did. I’m only saying that if someday we meet up with an alien race, their clothes, (again if they need them) are more likely going to be held together by something like a button, a tie, or even some cousin to Velcro, (another human idea) than by a zipper. But that’s just me.

          I mention all this because, for the last four days or so, a zipper has just about driven me crazy. The situation is that, if you haven’t already become bored enough to turn to the next page of the paper, I was given a beautiful and very expensive men’s winter parka. The jacket is a bit large for me, but my 6’8” son loved it. I, therefore, gave it to him. The problem is that when he tried the parka on, he noticed that the zipper pull was broken, and he was sad about that.

          I can’t come to the rescue if some family member needs a major car repair, “We’ll just throw a new motor in there.” or the loan of fifty grand, but I do like to help solve smaller problems for my kids if I can. Fixing a stupid zipper seemed like one of those smaller problems. Was I wrong?  OHHHHH, was I wrong!

          I won’t be a name-dropper, but I began my search for some solution to my zipper problem by immediately heading to our society’s worldwide source for all things, an online company that begins with an ‘A,’ ends with an ‘n’, and has a ‘mazo’ in the middle.  I waited only a few days for my super-duper zipper pull repair item to arrive. When it did, I anxiously tried it on the parka, only to learn that I must have measured wrong, although I will never fully accept that, and that the item was too small. The only solution then, so that I didn’t lose the $12 I spent on the thing was to return it and order the larger one that was offered. I did this and waited another few days to receive my sure to be correct pull. Yes, the pull came quickly, and no, it did not fit, but was too large for the zipper. Arrrrg!

          I sent this one back too, and in desperation went to our local sewing and craft store to search for some magical, mystical solution to my problem, before I chucked the free jacket in the ol’ trash bin.  They, of course, had several zipper repair kits. I happily bought one of those and took it home, only to spend the next hour or so finding out that I am dumber than a zipper and will never fix that jacket without professional help, which the jacket and I both probably need at this point.

          If and when humanity contacts an alien race from another planet, we will certainly learn much from them. If you happen to be the person who meets them first, please find out if they keep their garments on with something better than a zipper.