I am not a fan of doctors. I hate going to the doctor’s office because I’m always afraid they will commit acts of Medical Care upon my body then scold me for being a beer enthusiast.
Even so, no matter how badly I dislike the doctor’s office, you shouldn’t put these appointments off.
My exam went well. Blood pressure is down. Cholesterol is lower. I’m fatter, of course, but at least I’m losing my hair.
The doctor smiled at my chart and said he’s very pleased about my health. Then he took a long gander at me and smiled. He said, “You don’t even look like the same guy I saw last year.”
And his words struck me. Because he’s right, I’ve changed a lot. The previous pandemic year has done a number on me. It’s made me a different man in almost every important area of my life.
Take beer. My beer consumption habits are very different now. Which is almost unbelievable, because to me, beer has always been beautiful stuff. Beer traditionally goes great with
every occasion: baseball games, social events, real estate closings, baptisms, days of the week containing a vowel, etc.
But something weird happened in the middle of last year. Beer became old news. All of a sudden I wasn’t drinking it. One day I realized it had been four months since I’d had any beer. And the bizarre thing is, I can’t figure out why. It happened by accident.
I realize this doesn’t seem like a big deal, but if you knew me you’d know I love beer. I was first introduced to the golden suds when I was a 5-year-old. My grandfather let me sip his Miller High Life because he thought it would be hysterical to watch his grandson spit and go, “YUCK!”
But his object lesson backfired because I adored the taste. At which point I attempted to drink the whole…