A Bad Week

By G. George Ostrom

How would you like to have a root canal in the morning and a colonoscopy in the afternoon? Me neither, but that's what I was shocked to learn was scheduled for me Wednesday. Am writing this the Monday morning before and am happy to report the doctor just agreed to move that "one thing" back to next week. Will have the root-canal this week; however just the thought of either one has curtailed my column writing concentration. With apologies, am running one from February of 1991:

There are always problems with being a newsperson. Radio newscasters have to PRONOUNCE names right and there is no relief for newspaper reporters because they have to SPELL them right. A guy in the business as long as I have been gets a little dizzy and dippy after awhile. World War II had those Japanese things like Fukuchiyama. Toyohashi . , . stuff like that. Remember the impossible names during all the violence and civil wars in Africa? Names like Mugambo, Ngo Ngo, Kasangulu, and Kisangani. Indo China was no better. We had Phnom Penh, Ban Me Thuot, Khanh Hung, etcetra. Now it's Riyadh. Qasr al Haiyana, in Saudi Arabia. Don't forget Shithatha, Iraq. I sure hope there isn't a lot of action around that town. Any of you tried pronouncing Rishon Lc Ziyyon or Herzeliyya, Israel, lately?

If I'm still around for the next big hassle, I hope we roll the tanks into North Dakota. I've never had any trouble with names like Minot and Fargo.

Wound up baby sitting my three year old grand daughter Tana and her baby brother. Parker, last weekend. Parker fell asleep right away but Tana came over to my chair and told me I was her child and that she had to get me ready to go to the birthday party. I asked what birthday party and she said, "One of your little friends is three

years old today."

I then asked how old I was and was told, "Going on four." Then she told me to hold still because she had to fix my hair. I noticed she had an old Christmas wrapping ribbon in one hand. That prompted me to ask what kind of a kid I was. She said, "You're my oldest daughter."

"How many brothers and sisters do I have?"

"You have nine …and you're the oldest," then she told me to hold still again while she fixed my hair. Trying to get into the game, I said, "I'll bet I'm going to be really looking nice when you get my hair fixed and the ribbon in it. "

That's when she broke me up by saying. "My dear little girl. You certainly have a vivid imagination."

When daughter Hiedi came home I told her what her child had said and asked her where Tana had learned that expression. Hiedi didn'tknow for sure, but she guessed the day care lady probably had said that to Tana.

I'm never going to apologize for having a "vivid imagination," especially when it seems to be a genetic thing.