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Stanton Gaye's workday, part 2

A brain surgeon? Really? I asked. The surgeon nodded, Yes really. Better judgment said I should hush up, finish the surgeons boat trailer inspection and return to my soggy chipped-vegetable baloney sandwich. Better judgment though is just a judgment, and judge not lest ye shall be judged, so I unhushed, Explain to me how your brain contains information on how to fix brains, but not information about the auxiliary switch in your car? He pondered my query, MmmI, I, dont know. Im a sorry working class guy (politicians best friend), hardly making ends meet, its no wonder my reply to the surgeon was twerpish, Im sure the next dude strapped awake and upright with you tinkering around deep in his head with a set of tweezers and a soderin iron would be thrilled to know you cant find the auxiliary switch in you car. I didnt stop there, Im wearing low-grade blue jeans clung humidly to every inch of my spindly legs. I work ten hours a day, commute forty-five minutes each way, and bring home $385.00 a week, after child support. Our Senators get $3173.00 a week, before child support. I get a weeks paid vacation that I spend splitting firewood. Ive been out of Vermont twice, and the only place Ive been internationally is the house of pancakes. My wife not only didnt win the beauty pageant, she wasnt even on the decorations committee. Im living with a whole mess of hurt captain brain surgeon, but even so, Ive known where the auxiliary switch on a car is since I was ten. The surgeon clipped, Hey ace, just inspect my trailer would you? Ah buddy, you see the time? Its 12:10, lunchtime. Brain surgeons might work through lunch but us mechanics need to eat, The surgeon slowly rolled his head from side to side like a bobble head dog, What are you saying? Im saying, you want your inspection done while you wait? Pull in after lunch. He said, Youre mad cause I bothered your lunch. I smiled, Im not mad. Im just lonely and want to talk. Were all just a bunch of lonely souls eh, dont you think? You come here to get inspected cause you know Ill visit with you. You could go to one of those In and Out Burger assembly line car inspection places, but you dont, you come here cause of my car-side manner. Captain brain surgeon once again pondered my query, You know youre right. Youre a smart sorry working class guy. Smart, I guess Im smart. Do you know Beethovens Ode To Joy? I can play it on empty oilcans. I can open compact disc cases with ease. I can differentiate between worn brake pads and an overheating clutch using my olfactory. I add at a high rate of speed. I think if all Taco platters were two-thirds smaller theyd still be big enough, and I know youd have to be a supremely spiritual forgiving pious person to not wish a dastardly outcome to any person who preys upon young people. Though Im not one to judge. The captain surgeon agreed, Neither am I, but you have a point. Good visiting with you. Yeah, you too. I said, Now climb in the Jeep, turn the key to auxiliary and step on the brake would ya, Im hungry. Rusty DeWees tours Vermont and Northern New York with his act The Logger. His column appears weekly. He can be reached at rustyd@pshift.com. Listen for The Logger, Rusty DeWees, Thursdays at 7:40 on the Big Station, 98.9 WOKO or visit his website at www.thelogger.com

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