Ten-Finger Exercises

There's a word for that.

Did you know there's a word for a disease you catch only after you've heard of it? Darn it all, I can't remember the word, and I can't blame it on alzheimers because I heard of that a long time ago. I know who to call to find out, but I have hair dye on my head at the moment and prefer not to use the phone.

What made me think of it is the proponderance of ghost-sighting stories around these days. I love "Medium," and put up with the one Bill likes with the perky brunette who only sees dead people. The character from Medium seems to be seeing more already-dead people since the other show came up in the ratings. Coincidence?

I was reading a AAA magazine the other day about a cruise down the Mississippi. The author of the article began to talk about a certain town they visited, and how she told (warned? bragged to?) the guide that she could see the fine old Southern ghosts.

Somebody wrote into Dear Abby also claiming to see ghosts, or complaining about someone who did. (I use that name generically, because I don't remember which column it actually was.) (And obviously I don't remember the gist of the letter either.)

Maybe I can blame this whole memory thing on the fumes of the hair dye. Whew! They are strong. Honestly though, I have to admit I'm unprepared to say what it is I wanted to say. Should have done my research first.

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On a different note, we had a good police presentation today at hospice about street drugs and scams. The officers brought a variety of crack and meth pipes, some that looked like handblown Venetian glass. What a waste of creativity! Some beautiful bongs too. I'm sure there were a couple of us who might have seen those in clients' homes and never knew what they were.

So much for now, or I'll be tooooo red.