Udon Water Boarding: Part two
By a Hospital Orderly
This is more info/gossip being passed around. Use this information if you so desire or discard it all together. It is printed here as entertainment only and should not be considered in any way as medical advice or a suggestion that you give up showers or sex all together. The following information has been lifted.
Having a heart attack
Most heart attacks occur in the day, generally between 6 A.M. and noon. Having one during the night, when the heart should be most at rest probably means that you did something unusual during the day.(…maybe you got laid! ). Some Doctors and their colleagues have been working for a decade or more to show that sleep apnea during the night is to blame (Apnea: brief pause of breathing; a temporary suspension or absence of breathing), not early morning sex or a morning jog as previously thought (There go your bragging rights).
If you take an aspirin or a baby aspirin once a day, (for preventative medication) take the aspirin at night. The reason: Aspirin has a 24-hour “half-life”; therefore, if you do experience a heart attack at night or the wee hours of the morning, the Aspirin will already be knocking about in your system and working for you.
There are several symptoms during the on-sought of a heart attack. You could experience one or all of the following: pain on the left arm, pain in the chest, pain on the chin, nausea and lots of sweating, however, these symptoms may not occur at all. There may be NO pain in the chest (prior to) a heart attack. (Or, there may be several other symptoms too numerous to mention here…. (That kind of leaves you hanging, doesn’t it?)
The majority of people (about 60%) who had a heart attack during their sleep did not wake up. However, if you are one of the lucky ones the chest pain will wake you from any deep sleep so you can do something about it. That is the moment you must decide if you are going to tell your wife or take an aspirin first but don’t get too stressed about this decision…. It is imperative at a time like this that you take the initiative and to choose a course of action. (I’m going to take the aspirin first. My wife may be on the phone with relatives).
Call your emergency number that you have already written and are keeping next to the aspirin bottle or call the tourist police or phone a neighbor or a family member who lives very close by. Say “heart attack!” and add in a conversational tone, that you have taken two aspirins.(learn to say all that in Thai…now say it with the right tones under stress. Yeah, right!). Take a seat on a chair or sofa near the front door, and wait for the emergency crew to arrive. But be sure to unlock the entrance door from the inside and don’t forget to unlock the gate before returning to the house for that recliner… whoops; DO NOT LIE DOWN!
If you are lying down when the emergency crew arrives they may just switch to being body snatchers and haul you off as dead… that pays more.
Mixing West with the East
By: Ormond the Obese:
The waitress came over after I gave her that anticipatory look. She stood and looked at me in anticipation for a split second before turning away. I had been too slow so she had lost interest and looked away, but no matter, I said “Nong” and that brought her back to my world. I said, without the least bit of superiority in my voice because I was speaking English, “I would like a chocolate sundae” and backed up my command with my index finger placed right on top of the chocolate sundae photo in the Men-New. Without hesitation the waitress told me with an air of superiority blanketed over her best English mixed with Isan tones that she didn’t know how to make a chocolate sundae and with those sheepish eyes expected me to say “Never mind, Check Bin, instead”, but I didn’t. I just looked back at her with my most pleasant look.
Then my wife of twenty years chimed in with her first language, Isan and became fast friends over the next several minutes as they got to know each other’s village and family. After a few minutes they got around to my ice cream order. My wife gave the waitress instructions in the art of assembling an ice cream sundae, with only a slight trace of her usual catty superior attitude spilling out. Then the waitress was off. According to my wife she had instructed the waitress to place two scoops of vanilla ice cream into a sundae dish and to cover the top scoop with chocolate syrup. My wife intentionally left out any reference to whipped cream or a red cherry. (Heaven forbid my wife tell the waitress how to build a real sundae) In a minute my wife smiled and told me the waitress had just loaded two scoops of chocolate into a banana split dish. She asked if she should intervene. “Nope, this is Thailand” , I said, and I patiently waited.
A minute later the waitress was back with my two scoops of ice cream in a rather large looking banana-split dish. Those two little chocolate scoops were so lost in that banana dish that they looked more like little kitty gonads than ice cream. The waitress was off and away.
By: Sibling Number four
My dad wanted all his kids to be civil engineers. He suggested to all of us that we learn how to build roads in South America where the folks down there were in great need of anything paved. Actually, he wasn’t talking to me so much as my brothers who were much older and able to understand what my dad was talking about. I was only about six when I first heard dad regale my older brothers on the need for roads in South America and how we brothers needed to go down there to put things right.
I remember thinking that building roads in South America would take a married person away from his home for months and months on end. That thought put me off thinking about being an engineer and more into thinking about becoming a professional baseball player in the States. I was only six but I already knew that ball players got all the girls… Why and for what reasons I hadn’t figured out yet. But I knew that having women was an important part of life.
Actually I was missing the point. Being away from home was what being a civil engineer in South America all was about. My dad was trying to tell my older brothers about the other side of building roads. The good side… the side about being away from home and down in the interior of South America where the girls could entertain like nobody’s business. But Dad could only talk in code because my mom was listening. Dad never came right out and said it…. He didn’t talk about what my brother’s and I could do on our off time down in the wilderness…. I wouldn’t wise up and decipher his code for years to come. By that time I had lost out on pro-ball and was rather lagging behind in earning an engineering degree of any type. I forgot about new roads to the south and concentrated on maxing out credit cards right there in the States where I was born.
Then, as luck would have it I landed in Thailand one month after retiring and then all that wisdom that my dad had shared in code came to light. I had finally caught on. Dad wasn’t so dumb after all.
By: Peter Playback, Sports Editor at Large
Editors note: This is a very long read (1000 Words.) It should only be attempted by the totally bored, mentally challenged or an Expat with nothing to do over the next day and a half. (most of you.)
There was a time when my older brother bought some heavy acreage in North Carolina and then packed up his family in Florida and moved into a mountain life style that was uncommon to the regular working man of that day. He and his bewildered family arrived in the spring of that year and started the task of building his families new home out of logs. For the first month or so they walked over mushy ground and through morning fog just to start the foundation of what would soon become a most beautiful and functional log cabin.
My brother’s new home was in the community of Cruso, North Carolina; a little town with no traffic light or a crossing street. It was no more than a place where folks driving in off the Blue Ridge Parkway would have to slow least they would carelessly drive across the front lawns or porches of homes built to the edge of the very curvy two lane, Highway 276.
Cruso had one store. It was a Mom and Pop store that sold dry goods, snacks and petrol. The store was central to the folks who lived in the area and the store was salvation to those tourists who had been thinking just a few moments before that they were lost in a forest of trees too thick to escape. The Cruso general store was a sight for sore eyes and just the place they needed for those items sold there, especially the petrol and the use of a toilet so often called a rest room in those parts…. (Americans are whoa to admit body functions…. But that is another story.)
My brother started calling the Cruso General Store the Cruso mall. His sense of humour had followed him into the North Carolina wilderness. He and the kids would saunter up to the store after a long day of log piling to get an ice cream and perhaps a cola with peanuts stuffed down the bottle neck…. Or the muzzle, as the locals called the practice of loading a soft drink with peanuts… a purely sensible way to consume protein and syrupy carbonation at the same time. This was back when petrol sold for no more than thirty-two cents a gallon.
By this time my brother and family looked like the locals in dress and in manner. And they could put on a mountain accent that would leave the native folk wondering if they weren’t just some lost cousins who had finally found their way home.
My brother came up with a game they all got into playing. They learned after time that everyday brought some hapless flatlander to the Cruso Mall totally lost and in need of directions. My brother decided to accommodate. In the afternoons they all took up their places in the two benches out front of the store. This is where they ate their ice cream bars very slowly and waited for the gullible. They struck gold at least once a day.
They watched in silence as folks parked in front of the store and stood outside their car trying to make up their minds. What came first, the toilet, petrol, or a snack. After all three were accommodated it was time to ask directions… and that is why my brother was sitting there pretending to eat his ice cream in splendor when indeed, he was setting the hook.
It wasn’t the men whose idea it was to asked directions. It was according to my brother, it was the women who put the men up to asking my brother how to get out of there. My brother and family acted non committal at these times and just listened… If there was ice cream left it was good theatre to take one more lick before turning and starring with pretended earnestness to the flatlander asking directions…. The question, of course was always how to get to the intersection of highway 110 and 215; some spot that was straight ahead about three more miles down the road they were already on.
With the hook set my brother and his sons became thespians. It was almost impossible to tell that my brother and his family were flatlanders recently removed from the same cities in Florida these lost souls were now intrusting their life. The routine was always to take a lot of time to consider the directions sought. My brother had a full beard that he brought into play by scratching and his sons still clean shaven, learned to move their ball caps around a bit in an effort to display deep thought. Finally with finality my brother would look into the eyes of his solicitor and answer with a most convincing mountain accent. “You can’t get there from here, I don’t reckon. “
His sons, one at a time and with straight face would lean into that observation and give a practiced nod of confirmation as though their Dad had recited the whole of the gospel truth in one verse.
Udonthani is the same way. Can anyone give directions from any one point in Udon to another…. Here is a city with three traffic circles within a half a mile of each other that slowly disgorge travelers into fifteen different directions. Tell somebody how to navigate that. Then tell them to travel past; how many lights; some working and some not working before taking a left or right and arriving at their sought after store front. I believe we should be happy we have GPS and my brother is still back in those hills giving directions.
My dad wanted all his kids to be civil engineers. He suggested to all of us that we learn how to build roads and then go to South America where the folks down there were in great need of paved two lane roads. Actually, he wasn’t talking to me so much as my brother who was much older and able to understand what my dad was talking about. I was only about six when I first heard dad regal my older brothers on the need for roads in South America and how they needed to be down there putting them together. I remember thinking that building roads in South America would take a married person away from his home for months and months on end. That thought put me of
thinking about being an engineer and more into thinking about becoming a professional ball player in the States. I was only six but I already knew that ball players got all the girls… Why and for what reasons I hadn’t figured out yet but I knew that having girls was an important part of baseball too. Actually I was missing the point. Being away from home was what being a civil engineer in South America was all about. My dad was trying to tell my older brothers about the other side of building roads. The good side… the side about being away from home and down in the interior of South America where the girls could entertain like nobody’s business. But Dad could only talk in code because my mom was listening. Dad never came right out and said it…. He didn’t talk about what my brother’s and I could do on our of time down there in the wilderness…. I wouldn’t learn about that for years to come. By that time I had lost out on pro-ball and was rather lagging behind in earning an engineering degree of any type. I forgot about new roads to the south and concentrated on maxing out credit cards right there in the States where I was born. Then, as luck would have it I landed in Thailand one month after retiring and then all that wisdom that my dad had shared in code came to light. A little too late but I finally caught on. Dad wasn’t so dumb after all.
|“The longest journey of any person is the journey inward”|
|Dag Hammarskjold quotes (Swedish Statesman and United Nations official, 1905–1961|
“Proportions are what makes the old Greek temples classic in their beauty. They are like huge blocks, from which the air has been literally hewn out between the columns”
“This is your silly web browser doing that. The file is correctly named”
|“Whatever I do is done out of sheer joy; I drop my fruits like a ripe tree. What the general reader or the critic makes of them is not my concern.”|
|Henry Miller quotes (American Author and Writer, 1891–1980)|
Subject: Mayo Clinic on Aspirin – PASS IT ON
“If you don’t read the newspaper, you’re uninformed. If you read the newspaper, you’re mis-informed.”
― Mark Twain
By Investigative reporter: David Diggmoore
By: James P. Stockworth,
Native Born fourth generation American and a proud holder of a Thai non-immigrant O visa.
As a lad it was a common goal among all of us to one day learn a second language. At the time the second language of choice would have been Spanish but back then none of us had ever seen a Hispanic, let alone had a need to carry on a conversation. Nor would we be able to identify one had a Hispanic stood next to us. A chance meeting of anyone not of our planet back then was not something we could imagine. But, still we wanted to learn a second language.
In high school some of the girls opted for French class which we thought was a boring and snobbish thing to do. Only the rich visited France in the 50’s and early 60’s. That’s when all Americans thought of France as being the whole of Europe. And besides, France was a long way off. I knew I would never travel that far. My more realistic dream was to have a conversation with a Mexican if I ever made it to Mexico. But first I would have to make it to Texas and Texas was a long way off…
That was the problem and why I am looking for sympathy right now. I believe it is important to you speakers of a second or third or fourth language to lend an open mind to this ramble.
Once in high school I happened to overlay a map of Europe over a map of the United States and I was amazed at what I learned… The Europe that I overlaid on my map started with the Mediterranean Ocean at Gibraltar and covered all the land up to the North Sea at Thurso East, Scotland. Most of that countryside fit nicely inside central Florida up to Boston, Massachusetts. I could drive from southern France to Northern France and fall into the English Channel before I could drive from my home in Tampa, Florida to Washington D.C. I was starting to see a conspiracy here.
All my life I had been made to feel small, inferior, like a dummy or just plain stupid because I was stuck on language Number One and couldn’t speak a second language and now I had suddenly learned that the folks perpetrating this bad will were learning their two and three languages not out of desire or superior intellect but out of necessity…. Europeans were bunched on top of each other in a group of countries that could fit between Boston, Miami and some little hick town in western Tennessee. An area I had driven by the time I was eighteen…. And I learned during those trips to Speak: Hick Georgian, Appalachian and a smattering of Cherokee. If I had kept driving I could have learned real English in the mid west, Mexicana in Texas and enough Chinese in California to order from a menu.
The Thai language is the equalizer. This is where the tires hit the road. This is where all you folks steeped in language skills and drenched in two or three languages can compete with me… the one language kid. I’m not taking credit for knowing Hick Georgian, Appalachian and a smattering of Cherokee because I want to give you a chance. I’m enrolled in a beginner Thai class that starts January 5th…. See you there or be square.
584 words used in 2nd edition
A Social Economic Rant
By: Staff writer Dr. I. B. Factoid
When I was a kid I heard about a guy who had lost his wife in a poker game and won a Rolls-Royce all in the same night. That’s the story that went around. I don’t know if the story was true or not but I saw the Rolls-Royce often, coming and going in my neighborhood, where I had never seen it before.
The new owner painted his new car pearl white over a Flat North Florida Pine Woods Green after our school colors. (It was really ugly.) I also heard that he became a regular contributor to our school’s social fabric as in, the school’s athletic department. By the time he had loaded the High School down with gifts of cash the folks living in the area were more able to forgive him losing his wife in a hand of poker.
I never met him but I’m sure I would have liked him, not because he was rich and gave money away but because he was crazy enough to put his wife up as stakes in a poker game and was able to lose her with a solid hand one minute only to win a Rolls-Royce with a good bluff the next. That’s somebody to be liked. I often wondered if he lost his wife on purpose. Maybe he bluffed two times in a row. You might have to think so, especially when he finished the night with a title to valuable Rolls and had unloaded a very high maintenance commodity in the space of a few hours. At the time, the way I understood it, a woman would lose value over the years against a Rolls that was destined to gain value year after year. Clever, you got to like someone like that.
As a kid I thought all the stories drifting around about this old eccentric were a little strange especially in the south where the standards of decorum were a little more ridged than in a place like Detroit, Michigan or Birmingham, England where reports of bar patrons peeing on the street corner outside of any pub at any time on any night is rather common, or perhaps Thailand were decorum is a word still in need of translation, or so it is reported.
I would hazard a guess that all of us living in Thailand have from one time or another felt like we were that pot of coin to be won or lost in a moment by the luck of the draw or a smidgen of cleverness, however, in Thailand everything seems to be more about pick-up- sticks than cards and not so much about being thrown into a pot of coin as much as it is trying to remain stiff and unmovable when all about you are tumbling about.
477 Words used in 2nd edition