My newest article will be out on Lew Rockwell today. It takes a humorous (and sometimes serious) look at gout as well as some good advice if you, or someone you know, has it. The Article is called, "Gout Sufferers of the World Unite! Read it here.
Besides some interesting tidbits on the history of gout, the article also talks about my personal experiences battling the dreaded disease; and, how while under a gout attack, my adventures flying First Class trying to pick up a stewardess...
From the article:
"Later on, I was trying to quietly enjoy the flight (though my foot was killing me) when I saw one of the flight attendants smiling and looking right at me. I straightened my tie and smiled back but then I figured that since I am near sighted, she was looking at someone else. I tried to get some shuteye and peaked at her to see if she was looking at me anymore. She was! After awhile, I noticed that she kept looking straight at me and smiling over and over again. My heart sang. I thought, "The old boy's still got that magic!" I gave her a mischievous grin and she smiled back.
Oh, stay my beating heart! I'm old enough to be her father… er, older brother, I surmised. Then while I was picturing holding hands with her and running madly in love up some faraway sandy beach laughing together, she started walking up to me.
I braced myself. I wondered if my breath was OK. Maybe she wanted my phone number. Maybe she'll be lonely tonight in Tokyo? Great, but what will I tell my wife?
She came directly to my seat, offered me a blanket and said, "Mr. Rogers?" I jumped a few feet in the air. How did she know my name? And her English was perfect! She continued, "Mr. Rogers, can I have your phone number?" I smiled knowingly at her as I pulled out a piece of paper from my pocket, wrote down my number and, with a half-wink, I handed it to her.
"What's this?" She said.
"Silly," I whispered while slowly flashing my bedtime eyes to her, "You asked for my phone number."
"Pardon me, Mr. Rogers," she replied, "There must be some misunderstanding. I didn’t ask for your phone number, I asked, ‘Is your foot feeling better?’ I’m sorry my English is so poor."
My face turned beet red. I told her that I was fine and acted like I was sleepy so she would leave me alone. She walked away, out of my life forever, and behind the curtains where the other stewardesses were… A minute later I could hear them giggling."
http://www.lewrockwell.com/rogers/rogers237.html
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Keywords: Lew Rockwell, First Class, Stewardess, Mr. Rogers, Mike Rogers, James Brown, gout, headache,
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