Seven Years of a Good Mood

Seven years ago last Thursday, The Great Ducknik loosed her bonds of remunerated servitude, severed the cords of The Golden Handcuffs, told Mother Bank adiós, compañero and then she and Plotnik got on a plane and headed for Peru.

Seven years later, she's still in a good mood.




It's fun to have friends like Silent Bill and The Great Mushnik who like to eat as much as Plot and Duck do. The four celebrated at Chenery Park. OK, so Plotnik had a Groupon. So did everyone else in the place, which was packed.




Good moods are a little hard to come by these days. Yesterday was one of those You Have GOT To Be Kidding days, filled with incomprehensible conversations, both by phone and by email. The great thing about interhuman communications is that you can never figure out in advance what someone's reaction is going to be to something that seems perfectly obvious to you.

Plotnik found out his mother had a fight in the doctor's office with her caregiver who was trying to tell the doctor how Mummy P. had been feeling. Plotnik's mom denied everything, said she was feeling fine, didn't understand why she was there in the first place and certainly didn't need no steeenking MRI.

THEN the doctor got around to reading the fax Plotnik had spent three hours sending him the other morning. It listed all the stuff, including how anything Mummy P. said about her health, if it relied on her remembering anything she didn't want to remember, was no longer operative. THEN he scheduled the MRI, which she really does need. Otherwise, he would have taken her word over her caregiver's word.

Plotnik also was forced to remember that his partner, whenever a step forward is taken on their project, seems to have to try and sabotage that step with delusional and often vicious email slander. Plottie is used to this, but it takes him by surprise every single time. Shouldn't he know this is coming? So whose fault is that?

And of course, any time you try to mix family with money you end up with hurt feelings and people taking health decision issues personally. It just makes everything murkier. Everybody is trying to keep their head above water here, that's all. Fortunately, Plotnik had The Great PD to call for advice. Nobody can put Thomas back on the train to Johannesburg better than The Great PD.

It's a long story.

So it wasn't the best day, but then Plottie got to see Domin-Nik and Blond Bombshell and Mushnik last night and it was really fun. The Good Mood persists today. Plottie went to the skin doctor who told him he has a few "wisdom spots." That really is a lot better than "age spots," isn't it? It's all good. It's all good.