Adventure 435: The Story of George, 12

February 2, 2018

Skipped a day of real time for George, but all is well. We took him to the doctor to get some pre-cancerous cells cut off his forehead. He's never had so much medical care. He's handling it well and is in good spirits. I think it's safe to day he's over the UTI infection. I must tell you, that particular infection is a doozy. I think our only concern now is rebuilding his habit of taking his daily pills. He's pretty good about remembering his morning dose, but the evening has been escaping him.

I remember one time, I must have been around seven, that George met some of his buddies for a game of poker, cigars, and booze. The group met at the local heavy equipment store in downtown Lewiston. He took me along. I was too young to know anything about the actual card game, but I remember being entranced by the big bulldozers, ditch witches, and other big machinery. George told me that I could look, but under no circumstance was I to climb on the machines. Well, one of his buddies who must have lost out early, thought he'd be funny. He sat me up on one of the D-9 Cats, and proceeded to fire the thing up. George came running out of the back room like Usain Bolt. I could hear the poker chips tinkling as his wake caused the table to tremble. His buddies laughed and laughed, I didn't get into any trouble, but I look for that equipment place every time I'm in Lewiston, Idaho. I'm sure it never crossed George's mind that a back room poker game was no place for a seven year old, but hey, what's wrong with a little fun?

Just a small bandage; no worries.