An eye opener

Click HERE to read an interview with me conducted by Diana Davis, posted on line at Walrus Publishing. Please leave a comment on their site. Thanks.
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I had an eye-opening experience. Generally I postpone the medically inevitable as long as possible. The obstetrician can attest. Both of my kids were two weeks overdue!

I visit the doctor and dentist regularly, and I have my annual mammy-whammy, but I would prefer not to have to go at all. If something bad is going to happen, like a blown tooth or gallbladder gasket, I figure it will happen to me. What I really figure is no news is good news. I procrastinate.

My last optometrist appointment was in August.
2005. Yeah-yeah-yeah, I know. I have made do with reading glasses, but of late they just weren't "doing" their thing. No matter how much I squinted or how I positioned the glasses, I couldn't read that dang Taco Bell menu. Then I had these lightning strikes in my left eye last month, which warranted an emergency visit to an opthalmologist, who gave me an all clear, but left me with a few words of wisdom, "If you want to pass your next driver's exam, you might want to consider glasses."

I didn't tell her I had been considering them for five years. No longer able to postpone the inevitable, I had my vision exam.

The optometrist had an air about him, a very pleasant air. He was friendly, and we chatted like "old home week". We're nearly neighbors, and I am sure that we have acquaintances in common, but if we had started name dropping, we'd have been in that little dark room a little too long and folks in the waiting room may have wondered.

He made me see the light, as well as the fine print. It was a delightful 20/20 experience.

Angie and Rick, (not college students, but adult office staff, who acted like college students) made my experience even more fun. How often do you go for a medical exam and leave the office butt gusting...I mean gut busting?

Angie and Rick bantered like siblings.

"She treats me like I'm twelve!"

"Yes, I felt terrible Monday when I called in sick. I texted him constantly and in between questions, I told him what to do, BREATHE."

Poor Rick, I was there Monday. I felt bad for him. The office was understaffed and people were harping in his right ear, left ear, in his face, at the back of his head, texting, tugging ... it was taking a toll on him. He loooked as if he could have pulled out a taser and zapped a few folks. So, instead of waiting around on Monday for an appointment, I postponed it to today.

The office was under control this afternoon; there were only two patients in the waiting room, and Rick seemed relaxed. Angie, dressed in lace and finery, had it under control.

Rick robbed me, I mean, sold me a fine pair of rhinestone studded glasses and jacked up, I mean, reduced the price. He also kept the one liners coming faster than Robin Williams.

All I can say is I have never had as much fun in a doctor's office, except that one time...oh well, never mind.

Seriously, if you are looking for a new pair of specs or contacts, I highly recommend Sears Optical at South County. I left there in stitches. The good kind.

What's your genre?

Be careful of the labels you wear. I learned this lesson Sunday night. I read at a new and wonderful open mic venue, Hartford Coffee House. I read six of my poems. During the break, people came up to me and said, "I thought you wrote humorous and inspirational Chicken Soup essays. Wow! That was great. I didn't know you write poetry."

That is my fault, not theirs. That indicates to me that I need to visit more poetry reading venues to get my name out there. Establishing a platform doesn't have to mean niche writing. Podium, platform, table, wherever you can be heard, create a platform for your multi-genre writing. I have read at senior citizen meetings, bars, coffee houses. Have you considered reading at open mic events? At first it's unnerving, but after awhile your hands stop shaking and your papers stop vibrating :)

Matthew Freeman, local poet and anthologist hosted the event and sold his latest and greatest book,Flood Stage, an Anthology of Saint Louis Poets, by Walrus Publishing. No, my work isn't included among the well-known, because I have restricted my reading to mostly prose and hung the label, "essayist" on myself. Those in attendance now know I can write poetry. So maybe, just maybe, I will have a shot at the next anthology. Following is one of the poems I read.

Linda O’Connell
10/07 published in Sacred Fool’s Press

WANDERLUST

Spring intoxicates me with memories of a bygone era
When every day was a childish adventure for Dad,
and he ran with wanderlust
when the winds spoke to his Native American soul.
I was along for the ride.

Snake-like Route 66 hummed under my body.
In the back of Dad’s old panel truck
I lay on bare, blue and white ticking,
mattress buttons and little brother
poking my bony ribs.

Tallied white lines
and Guernsey’s grazing in pastures
as we headed nowhere, somewhere, anywhere
Dad’s rambling soul would take us.

With a dollar in his pocket and a dream in his heart,
the four winds tugged him hither and yon,
cast us into unknown towns where temporary day jobs, thrift stores
and restrooms with cold water sinks provided vacation basics.

Dad didn’t have a dollar to spare
or a dime’s worth of sense.
We lodged on the run;
my mattress a communal bed.

Mom wrapped herself in a comma
around Dad’s exclamation point limbs.
I snuggled in a fetal question mark,
my brother scrunched in a period at my feet.

Nowadays, when cherry blossoms blanket the ground,
Old Route 66 wraps me up in asphalt arms
snakes me down winding roads that lead to long ago.
I feel the hum and I must
Go.

What labels do you wear proudly?