Hello, my dear!

[Wilson Gray]

I'm suffering through the first case of otitis externa - infection of
the external-ear canal - that I've ever had in my life. It is, to say
the least, a major annoyance. The infection is in the form of an
abscess. I had an appointment to see the doctor last Thursday, but,
when I woke up that morning, the abscess had come to a head and burst,
relieving the pain. The relief was palpable. Literally so, in this
case. So, I stupidly cancelled the appointment. Now, if you've ever
been inflicted with that hugely-overgrown pimple called an "abscess,"
you know that they will, eventually, just go away, though that may
take weeks, without any treatment. In a senior moment, I cancelled my
doctor's appointment. And, like an "extinct" volcano, the abscess came
back to life. It goes without saying that there were no more
appointments available any sooner that tomorrow - Monday - at eleven,
the crack of dawn for a night-creature like me. And the appointment
that I foolishly cancelled had been for two o'clock!

I've been using a hot, damp compress to alleviate the pain. This works
like a charm, except that, of course, keeps bringing the abscess to a
head and Barbara assures me that what was once neither here nor there
is now gross beyond words. And everything that I've read on the Web
assures me that the last thing that you want to do is to put ANYTHING
AT ALL into your ear. So, I won't be involved in any (more)
do-it-yourself aural hygiene.

I'll spare you further detail. If you've had the experience, you know.
If you haven't had the experience, the picture that you already have
in your mind is more than sufficient.

We haven't had much snow here, only about a foot. But it has been
COLD! Like, thirteen below zero. At first, I thought that the
thermometer was broken. Why else was there a "hyphen" preceding the
number in the readout? Then, the light dawned. Not a hyphen! The
"minus" sign! It was the lowest temperature that I've ever lived
through in my life.

However, we were toasty-warm inside the apartment. No problem there.
And, since we now have a car, we don't have to worry about freezing at
the bus stop, either.

I've probably already told you this anecdote. But I don't care. It's
one of my favorites. So, I'm going to tell it again.

On our first trip to Amsterdam, three other GI's and I were
unsuccessfully trying to find a bar that had been recommended to us by
veterans of the Amsterdam scene. After wandering around lost for about
45 minutes or so, we finally came across an Amsterdammer. There were
your humble correspondent, a GI from North Carolina, one from
Massachusetts, and one from Alabama. The Alabamian was on an Army
boxing team, hence accustomed to being forceful. So, before anybody
else could say anything, he spoke up, asking the Dutchman where we
might find the whatever-its-name bar. The Dutchman pondered the
question for a couple of seconds, then he finally asked, in turn,
"Wat?" Our self-selected spokesman repeated his question. Again, the
Dutchman paused for reflection. Finally, as the seconds ticked by, he
asked, "Do. You. Speak. English?"

Clearly, the poor mens was completely unfamiliar with the dulcet
drawlings of the Deep South.

I was last in The Dam in 1976. I found De Walletjes / De Rosenbuurt in
the area around De Zeedijk to have greatly deteriorated since I was
first there, in 1961-62. Back then, whole families with their
adolescent children could be found hitting the local bars and cruising
the scene. There were "window-girls" in those days, too, but they sat
in their windows fully-clothed. The last time that I was there, we
took a walk through the area during the day and it was so stunningly
gross that we didn't bother to go back after dark. Well, we might very
well have done so, had we still been twenty-year-old GI's on leave,
looking for excitement in a foreign country. But, we had aged out of
that mindset. Recently, there was a special on the nightcrawler area
of The Dam as it is today. Apparently, with its now-gigantic
non-native population, things definitely ain't what they used to be in
that city. De Walletjes is like the old "Tia Juana" at its worst.

Back in the '60's I lived at a joint called the "Hotel Hansen" at
Groenburgwal 28, across the canal from the Anglican, formerly
Lutheran, Christ Church. For some reason, GoogleMaps puts that address
on the same side of the canal as the church. Unreal! I think that I've
also already mentioned that this was Monet's old neighborhood, when he
lived in The Dam. There's a painting by him of the view down
Groenburgwal toward the Zuiderkerk from the intersection with
Staalstraat. Maps doesn't yet have a street view of that area.

On the other hand, Maps shows my old hangout on De Zeedijk in its
proper location. Back then, it was a small-time nightclub featuring
Afro-Cuban music called the "Casablanca." The brother of my
"girlfriend - I use the term advisedly, since she was my girlfriend
only when I was in town - played bass viola in the house band, under
the stage-name of "Raimundo del Oro." His real name was Abrahaam
Gobets.

Nowadays, the place is apparently a 5-star restaurant under the name,
"Casablanca Variété." Back then, the place had real "bat-wing" doors,
just as you see - used to see? - in Western movies. I looked for Dutch
doors, but I didn't see any anywhere. The local equivalent of a
hamburger, in those days, was an inch-thick or so fried pork chop
between two slabs of heavily-buttered bread. It tasted a lot better
than it sounds. Raw herring with onions and smoked eel were also good
snacks. The Hansen was only a couple of blocks from De Nieuwmarkt,
making shopping for goodies easy.

I was once offered a snack of cod liver by a Dutch friend. I wouldn't
touch it. Indeed, I was really surprised to discover that people
actually ate that stuff. In my childhood, only castor oil was
considered to be more disgusting than cod-liver oil. The odor of the
former would literally turn your stomach. Children and prisoners were
forced to take it as punishment. It was a POWERFUL laxative. The rest
I leave to your imagination. And castor oil was also used to lubricate
machinery, like sewing machines and such. Amazingly, it was also
considered to be a medicine. But, back in those days, Epsom salts was
considered to be a medicine to be taken internally. It was also used
to make a foot-bath. Cod-liver oil, despite its taste, was really good
for you. In fact, until the stocks of cod started to trend toward
extinction, making cod liver too expensive, what's now called "fish
oil," since it no longer consists of pure cod-liver oil, was called
"cod-liver oil," because that was what it was. Sadly, back in those
days, the stuff wasn't in capsules. A tablespoon of it was a ghastly
way for a kid to have to start his school-day.

Back then, some diseases that a lot of people these days have never
heard of were commonplace - diphtheria, ricketts, whooping cough (now
making a comeback), tetter, ringworm, etc.

I almost can't wait to get to the doctor. When my ear isn't throbbing
with pain, it really, really, really ITCHES! And, naturally, there's
nothing that I can do to scratch that itch.

Well, anyway , dear it was good to hear from you!

Love you!

--
-Wilson
–––
All say, "How hard it is that we have to die!"––a strange complaint to
come from the mouths of people who have had to live.
–Mark Twain

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