"New Hampshire?!"
One of the greatest parts of the movie, “What about Bob?” is when Bob learns to sail on lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire. "I'm sailing! Did you see me? I sailed, I'm a sailor, ahoy!"
Well, tie me to the mast and teach me to sail, ‘cause I’m moving north.
New Hampshire may seem like a random choice, but the rent is so cheap that the equivalent in my hometown would rent me a nice cardboard box. I’ll be living with a couple of friends in the middle of nowhere. We visited the house last week, and the silence there was absolute and glorious.
And what a state! No sales tax, no state income tax, and beer in the grocery store, what more could I ask for? I learned that thanks to NH, the world has Velcro, Tupperware, McDonalds hamburgers, and republicans. Well, the last two are not very useful, but all the same, a pretty cool state. And, although I will be a resident, I will still giggle a bit when I think of the state symbol used on their road signs, quarters, license plates, and commemorative shot glasses, that fell off it’s mountain perch. RIP old man in the mountain (stifled giggle).
And what a service! CPAP, RSI, standing orders, 45 degree angle laryngoscopes, ALS partners, and tons of drugs that I’ll have to look up, what more could I ask for?
I also like when Bob realizes that NH is his destination and everyone tries to spell “whinn…whena, winnapeesawkie” for him. Believe me, I had to look it up.
New England will be as close as I can afford right now to England original.
Google search term of the week: “Oliver Cromwell incendiary device” Why search for that, I couldn’t tell you, especially as I don’t think there were many incendiary devices in Cromwell’s time. Just a hunch.
The call: respiratory distress. Insert new stethoscope into ears, and all other sounds are drowned out, it’s just me and the lungs, wheezing, wheezing, and rales, in stereo. Throw the stethoscope back around my neck, and it’s time for combivent and lasix. Blood pressures on the fly, crystal clear lung sounds…heaven.
Well, tie me to the mast and teach me to sail, ‘cause I’m moving north.
New Hampshire may seem like a random choice, but the rent is so cheap that the equivalent in my hometown would rent me a nice cardboard box. I’ll be living with a couple of friends in the middle of nowhere. We visited the house last week, and the silence there was absolute and glorious.
And what a state! No sales tax, no state income tax, and beer in the grocery store, what more could I ask for? I learned that thanks to NH, the world has Velcro, Tupperware, McDonalds hamburgers, and republicans. Well, the last two are not very useful, but all the same, a pretty cool state. And, although I will be a resident, I will still giggle a bit when I think of the state symbol used on their road signs, quarters, license plates, and commemorative shot glasses, that fell off it’s mountain perch. RIP old man in the mountain (stifled giggle).
And what a service! CPAP, RSI, standing orders, 45 degree angle laryngoscopes, ALS partners, and tons of drugs that I’ll have to look up, what more could I ask for?
I also like when Bob realizes that NH is his destination and everyone tries to spell “whinn…whena, winnapeesawkie” for him. Believe me, I had to look it up.
New England will be as close as I can afford right now to England original.
Google search term of the week: “Oliver Cromwell incendiary device” Why search for that, I couldn’t tell you, especially as I don’t think there were many incendiary devices in Cromwell’s time. Just a hunch.
The call: respiratory distress. Insert new stethoscope into ears, and all other sounds are drowned out, it’s just me and the lungs, wheezing, wheezing, and rales, in stereo. Throw the stethoscope back around my neck, and it’s time for combivent and lasix. Blood pressures on the fly, crystal clear lung sounds…heaven.
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