I Don't Get Some People......

I mean there are some people I don't EVER get, and there are a lot of people I don't get some of the time.

There is one particular person, however, who (as I'm guessing you have figured out) has prompted this blog post.

He's a golfing "buddy" of Hubby's and a guy I've known for a hundred years or so. He's a strange little man who used to play the song "Elvira" by the Oak Ridge Boys repeatedly on the jukebox. Now I can't hear "Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow,  Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow" without thinking of ....... let's call him Herman ...... and I can't see Herman without hearing in my head "Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow Giddy Up Oom Poppa Omm Poppa Mow Mow."

To those of you for whom I have just created what my brother-in-law calls an "ear worm," you're welcome.


Back to Herman.


He called Hubby back in July with one of his seemingly never-ending sob stories. He said his wife has cancer and he needed $260 to buy her medicine. Hubby has a soft spot a mile wide, so he told Herman to come by the house and he would be happy to loan him the money. Herman said he would get his next Social Security check in August, and he would pay Hubby back then.

August came and went.
September came and went
October came and went.
November came.

I'm counting at least 4 Social Security checks here.

Hubby and I have joked between us about the fact that Herman couldn't show up to the golf course as long as he hasn't paid Hubby back. In a rare moment of seriousness, Hubby said one day that if Herman had asked him to GIVE him the money, he probably would have done that too. (Did I mention Hubby's soft spot?) But the fact that he was so specific about WHEN he would pay it back indicated, at least to Hubby and me, that his intention to pay it back was very real.

Today Hubby texted me from the golf course and said Herman was there.

Apparently Herman is now suffering from amnesia, because he never mentioned the $260.

Poor Herman. He will probably need money to buy medicine for that too.

Subtlety is Lost on Some People.....

One of the things we stress on BRAG (and similar bicycle rides) the most is the issue of safety. That can mean riding safely, wearing the proper clothing and a helmet, drinking sufficient fluids, and washing your hands.

On BRAG 1999 (I think), there was a horrible outbreak of an intestinal illness that sent many riders home. I am thankful that I didn't come down with it, but apparently enough people did that it got the attention of health officials. BRAG folks did a survey and while a cause was never definitively identified, there seemed to be a link back to folks putting their hands in bags of ice (to fill up their water bottles).

Many people were guilty of keeping their gloves on at rest stops. The gloves with which they had more than likely wiped their noses, wiped sweat off their brows, kept on while they visited the porta-potties, and then approached the food table. To put their hands in the ice bags.

Yuck.

I never was one to put ice in my water bottles. I figured it was pretty much a waste, since ice in Georgia in June wasn't going to stay ice very long. I fill my water bottles up at the rest stops, and if the water is tepid a few miles down the road, I'm still grateful I have it.

Ever since then, there has been a huge emphasis on hand washing at rest stops. There aren't any bags of ice out in the open, either. The tables are stamped with the words "Remove gloves and wash hands," and volunteers are instructed to enforce the policy.

There was a lady who worked rest stop #2 for several years, and she became (somewhat) affectionately known as "The Glove Nazi" or "The Rest Stop Nazi." She took her job very seriously, and she was even posted on the net doing part of her "gloves off wash your hands" routine.




I admired her to some extent for taking her job so seriously, but it began to wear on the nerves by day 7. You could hear her screaming before you even GOT to the rest stop. She hasn't been back in the last couple of years..... hmmmmm.....

Some people, though, need that kind of admonishment. I encountered a girl (woman) yesterday who would have incurred the wrath of The Glove Nazi.

She approached the table with her gloves still on, and the volunteer nicely asked her, "Have you removed your gloves and washed your hands?"

"Well, obviously I haven't removed my gloves," she responded, as she helped herself to some slices of peaches.

"We ask that riders remove their gloves to keep from spreading germs. There was a nasty illness on BRAG a few years ago."

"I've never been a rule follower," Miss Gloves On said, munching on her peaches and not the least concerned that everyone was staring at her.

Someone said, "The Glove Nazi would be yelling at you."

She said, "I don't mind getting yelled at."

I couldn't stand it. I had to speak up. "I'd rather be yelled at than come down with that horrible illness that went around on BRAG."

I swear to you, she said, "Oh, you haven't lived until you've had the swine flu."

I was aghast. I said, "Then I haven't lived, and I don't want to."

She just laughed.

She never got it. She never took her gloves off, so I'm sure she didn't wash her hands.

Gross. I hope she comes down with the dysentery from hell.