Sunday, September 15, 2019

Supposed to Be the Patient





Labor Day.  An old friend I saw recently in San Francisco has shot me a text today: Happy Neighbor Day, which brings a smile.  When I lived in Hong Kong in Baguio Villa, back in 2006 or so, I had one or another person suggest that Monday was a holiday as it was neighbor day.  “What is this day?” I wondered.  Hong Kong isn’t an especially neighborly place?  Cantonese isn’t a decidedly neighborly dialect.  Perhaps it was a British thing, to foster civility, good manners. 

In a thick Cantonese accent ‘labor’ can sound a bit like neighbor.  Everywhere else in the world celebrates the day on May 1St but rather than align with the Internationale it’s only the U.S. who sanitize it of any communist implications and hold it in Sept. So perhaps I wasn’t expecting it.  And back there in Hong Kong, some twelve years ago it was this friend and myself in an office up on the 44th floor of the Lee Garden in Causeway Bay who were laughing at the idea, I’d suggested of just how ridiculous it would be, were I to have rang my neighbor’s door bell and introduced myself on the big day:  “Hi.  I’m your neighbor.  Wanted to wish you well on Neighbor Day.”  “It’s Labor Day, you idiot.  Now go away!”



And though there is Crafts Fair in the Fair Grounds not far from us across the Wallkill River, we won’t be going.  It's pouring rain today, on Labor Day.  And it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon. 

I make my trip over to the Galeria that afternoon for my eye exam.  The Doctor’s in.  His assistant is very friendly and professional and when the topic of China comes up things inevitably turn to Trump and I involuntarily role my eyes and sigh.  Doesn’t everyone?  I’m caught off guard as she says: “Well, the economy is doing really well.  You gotta hand it to him.”  I know there are Trump fans in the abstract, but I don’t quite know what to do, now that I’m actually talking about U.S. China trade with one.  I’m supposed to be the patient, not the China prof.



The Doc has a Japanese surname and he seems very kind and competent at conducting my exam.  He appears concerned that I haven’t had an exam in ten years, but . . . surprise, my prescription hasn’t really changed.   And then this gentleman has to reluctantly adjust into a sales role.  That must be hard for many doctors.  Some are probably good salesmen, but most probably feel awkward.  He’s mentioning the different options I have:  I could see better further, but not be able to read.  I could have these new-fangled contacts that have the capacity for both near and far.  And, I could leave well enough alone and just get the ones I always get.  From one sales guy to another I sense his hesitation and want to counsel him, but of course, I’m supposed to be the patient, not the sales coach. 



Monday, 09/02/19

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