One Pharmacist’s View

My mother sometimes got onto me for daydreaming so much. I had a teacher or two over at Stonewall that agreed with her too. She always admonished me to quit my daydreaming. As though one could. Like most people I think I was meant to travel. Go places. Someplace where they speak different languages. Dress funny. Eat weird foods. Places so far away you might need to get on an airplane or a ship to get there. But to get on an airplane means going through x-rays, being patted down. Getting a passport. Well sure. Pat and I, being the forever optimists, renewed our passports some time back. I guess we did want to be squeezed into an uncomfortable seat and be hurtled at speeds at nearly the speed of sound to one of these strange places.