BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

And, no. For those of you who are old enough to remember this, I am NOT about to break into a rousing chorus of  “I Do The Watusi” by Howie Mandel. If you are too young to remember, then click on the link above and have yourself a taste of post St. Elsewhere but pre Deal or No Deal Howie…

But, as usual, I digress…

MY questions aren’t about cottage cheese in shoes, or hamsters named Phil residing behind bars (again, see the above link). Mine are about this show called Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.

I accidentally watched a couple of episodes of this thing. Primarily because I turned on the TV and there it was. I used to like watching stuff like This Old House and Hometime, so I gave it a go. In case you haven’t seen this thing, it basically revolves around that hyper guy who used to do the Sears commercials and a group of interior decorators/remodeler/contractor types. They roll into a town in a tour bus and right up to the door of the person selected for the home makeover (via an interesting application process I’ve now found out). They send the person and their family off on an all expense paid vacation for a week, then demolish their house and put a new one in its place. All good, correct? I mean, especially when you consider that the people who manage to run the gauntlet of the application process are usually in some way, shape, or form, nearly destitute. They can’t pay for even the simplest of repairs on their home, in some cases the home is being condemned by the city, they have a whole raft of kids, and are living hand to mouth, and it seems that a prerequisite is to also have one or more disabilities in the family unit. These people are desperately in need of help. So, this show is doing an incredibly good and charitable thing for these folks…or so it seems.

These TV personalities roll in and replace the existing home with a brand new, completely decked out, much larger “dream home” by almost anyone’s standards (except the unnaturally wealthy that is). I’m talking in terms of a 45K shack or even a  worthless piece of falling down condemned building being replaced by a 250K to 350K home (And I’m just talking about the “shell of the home” when I toss out that number, because it doesn’t end there…They end up with all of the redecorating amenities, all new furniture, plasma TV’s on damn near every wall, and a kitchen that would make Emeril scream BAM! at the top of his lungs…Not to mention added bonus stuff like expensive toys and/or sports memorabilia for the kids, etc…–and that is just naming a FEW of the niceties.)

Well, here is where my questions start popping up.

Now remember, like I said, most of these folks (the ones I’ve seen so far, at least) can barely make their mortgage and feed themselves too, so let’s keep that in mind, as that is what is prompting most of my questions…

1) Who is going to pay the taxes on this new house? They are going to be a hell of a lot higher than they were before.

2) How do the rest of the people in the neighborhood feel about this monstrosity sitting next to their smaller homes? This new home’s value is definitely going to affect the neighborhood standing, and therefore the values and taxes on their homes. One way or the other. Either THEIR taxes are going to go up, or if the neighborhood is REALLY depressed, suddenly the city is going to come in and start condemning everyone else’s home. Next thing you know eminent domain happens and developers get their fingers in the pie, and…well, you see where I am heading…

3) Since these “dream homes” are normally being plunked down in middle to lower class neighborhoods, what would happen if for some reason that home needed to be sold? You sure can’t get the dollars that went into it back out of it if the neighborhood won’t support it. Unless, of course, some permutation of the question number 2 scenarios occurs…

4) Why in all hell do these people need Plasma TV’s on almost every wall in the friggin house? That’s one I just can’t get my head around…

and finally…

5) Wouldn’t it be better for ABC and this program to build smaller, less opulent homes that are livable and solid, thereby being able to build MORE of them and actually HELP MORE PEOPLE who need it? Oh, I don’t know, like maybe in Mississippi and Louisiana? People who are living in ratty FEMA trailers and not knowing when or if they’ll ever manage to get their homes rebuilt?

Yes, I know. If they were to actually do number 5 then it wouldn’t be EXTREME, and they wouldn’t have a viable TV Show would they?

Well, sorry, I still see this as a rather ridiculous excess. But then, that’s just my opinion…and you know what they say. That and a buck will get you a cup of coffee (as long as you aren’t talking Starbucks. Nothing against Starbucks mind you…it’s just that you won’t get a cup of coffee there for a buck…)

MR

Well, the point behind this whole blog thing is to share, correct? This is where you come to learn silly and little known stuff about yours truly…my meandering thoughts, and generally discombobulated logic, all spilled out onto the page so you can say, “Hey, did you know MR is a freakin’ lunatic?”

Am I right? Thought so…

Okay, so on with the “man boobie” thing. My entire life I have suffered from a condition called Gynecomastia. That being “male breasts”…Now, what I’m talking about here is not fat guy man boobies (although I readily admit I could stand to lose a few pounds…) Even when I was much younger and much thinner (yes, Virginia, I used to be a pretty good looking guy) I had this affliction. In fact, when I was thinner, it was even more pronounced.

One of the things about my particular case is that I was asymmetrical…I was flat chested on one side, and sporting a breast on the other. For years I have strapped the damn thing in, worn oversized shirts, etc, in order to conceal this “deformity” which I found embarrassing. (Okay folks, stop laughing, because I really am baring my soul here.) To give you an idea of how traumatic this affliction can be, think adolescent boys and locker rooms. Pretty bad visual of taunting there, eh? I’ll go you one better. Think about getting intimate with a member of the opposite sex, only to have her laugh at you when you remove your shirt…

Been there…Got the oversized t-shirt…

So…Why am I baring my soul here? Well, I received a number of well wishes in response to my “under the knife” blog post, so I thought I’d fill you in on what the knife was all about…

Fortunately, my man boobie wasn’t like a double-d or something…(Again, don’t laugh, because there are men out there afflicted with such who require extremely expensive and invasive surgery if they want this corrected)…Me, I wasn’t that big, but big enough to be easily noticed…Soooo, since I was actually small enough to not require the MAJOR surgery, earlier this year I underwent “Mesotherapy” (sometimes billed as Lipo Dissolve)…It is a process whereby medicines, vitamins, or in my case, a naturally occuring enzyme, is injected in high concentrations into fatty tissues. This can be done in order to administer vitamins or other medication. The particular form of Mesotherapy I had was to literally dissolve the fatty tissues (hence the term Lipo Dissolve or Lipo Therapy)…After several treatments the gynecomastia had been greatly reduced…Enough so, in fact, that my self-esteem got a major boost. However, my doctor, Amy Miller, was certain she could do more than simply reduce it. She was on a mission to make it go away. (Gotta love the doc, she’s a blast…)

Anyway, toward that end, we waited until my touring season was finished and I had some free time to undergo a slightly more radical procedure. Yesterday was that free time. I had actual Tumescent Liposuction to remove the rest of the fatty, glandular, and fibrous tissues that were responsible for my lopsided man boobie.

The process, in and of itself, took a couple of hours, and while it wasn’t what I would call terribly painful, near the end it did get a bit on the uncomfortable side. Not the doc’s fault, just part of the game. Sooooo, while “going under the knife” was probably not the most accurate title for yesterday morning’s blog entry, it was close enough. (she put a couple of holes in my chest and took stuff out, so that’s close enough in my book anyway .)

I was awake during the procedure, and I threatened repeatedly to blog the silliness that was ensuing– Think about it, you’ve got me, the guy who can’t take ANYTHING seriously on the table, and you got the doc and the nurse, Dawn, there for me to entertain. Throw into the mix all of the silly sounds the various medical apparatus were making, and well, you get the picture…I don’t really remember everything clearly (they doped me with a valium or something) but I remember all of us laughing, and I think I might have been funny and entertaining (at least, I hope I was, because I have a follow-up appointment! )

Anyhow, here I sit, with bodily type fluids draining from the holes into dressings that are taped to my chest (and itching like a mother!)…I am also wearing a compression vest sort of garment, which I will be wearing for another couple of weeks (or, as Dr. Miller put it to EK, however long she wants me to wear it…I just knew those two would get along fine )

There you have it…My tale of man boobies…Of which I no longer am in possession…In about 6 months the skin should have tightened up and I can go about my life being happily flat chested

BTW, I put all of the links throughout so y’all could see what I was talking about…I’m sure it probably looks like “product placement,” and I DO heartily reccomend Dr. Miller to anyone considering any of the procedures she does…Why? Not only is she a hell of a doctor, she actually takes time to talk to you. She doesn’t wave a clipboard at you and say “smear this crap on your face and call me in a week…” She’s a real person who treats her patients like real people, and I have to tell you that is a rare find for doctors these days–at least in my experience…On top of that she has a killer staff…Adrienne and Ivy are great, and the nurse who helped with the procedure, Dawn was great too…Yeah, I know, there I go sounding like a commercial again…Oh well, it’s just one of those things. Just like folks do with books–they find one they like, they recommend it. I’ve found a terrific doc, and I’m recommending her…

But, I’ll stop running off at the mouth now…That’s the story and that’s the “elective surgery” I had done…So now you know…Feel enlightened?

Now, if I can just get some more exercise and get rid of this table muscle that I have developed…

MR