I decided I couldn’t travel without first seeing my corn-pone, down-home, good-ole-boy doctor, John Boyd, M.D. He’s a strange guy – a mix of all business General Practitioner, with some rather bizarre remarks sprinkled around for flavor.
This time, when I told him I was going on the plane that evening, he did a very dramatic “Oh, Jesus,” complete with eye roll and everything. “So I’ve got four hours to cure you?”
He’s a big, beefy man who you could easily imagine on the back of a fishing boat or shooting a deer, dressed all in camouflage. He has a good head of graying brown hair, but other than that is far from the picture of help himself. (“Picture of help” is an interesting slip, so I won’t delete it. Obviously, I meant “health.”)
His general demeanor and gait suggest joint pain and flatulence, and his sight is assisted by glasses. In a word, although he conducts business with a definite sense of confidence in his knowledge of the profession, Dr. John is, well, a bit of a mess.
His coup-de-gras came when he told me, “Well, Daniel, this second round of antibiotics is going to cost you . . . so BEND OVER.”
Now don’t get me wrong – I’m a big fan of “colloquialisms,” and “bend over” is a good one. Very descriptive. But there’s just something about the fact that when I normally hear Dr. Boyd say these words, he means them in a very literal sense and they’re followed by a few seconds of something you kind of have to have experienced to really understand.
Let’s call it a “three-second violation” and be done with the topic.