My Japanese Beetles Come Home To Roost

It started with a text message from my work partner, Cliff – “signing Baker up for power wheelchair information was good stuff.”

The guy he’s referring to, Baker, works hard. But he always seems to be undergoing some sort of surgery. It’s never anything horrific, just normal wear and tear for an 80-year-old man. Baker is in his early thirties. So, in the dark humor of my office, sending Baker’s name in to get informational mailings about power wheelchairs is hysterical.

Pride Jazzy Select power chair (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I knew from the message that the prevailing opinion in the office was that I was responsible for sending Baker’s name in. I called Cliff and asked what happened. He laughed and described Baker’s reaction to the big glossy packets of wheelchair information he’d gotten. Then I broke the news to him. I had nothing to do with this joke.

He roared with laughter. “You are such a liar”, he said, “this must be your work”. “It isn’t, I really had nothing to do with this one” I told him. He laughed even harder, and repeated his accusation that I was a liar, with an added word that I won’t say here because my mother might read it.

Read the rest of this entry »