Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Hot Bath

Melvin was a shower kind of guy his entire life. He was simply too preoccupied with other matters of importance to allow himself the luxury of a nice hot bath. Not that the idea didn't appeal, however. Given the dousing nature of the overhead spray, Mel usually was anxious to exit the pummeling jet of H2O, hastily dry off and settle back into his interrupted chain smoking of Lucky Strike cigarettes. After all, L.S.M.F.T. - Lucky Strike means fine tobacco! He knew the tobacco was toasted, which made his deep drags all the tastier.

Time passed and Melvin retired from the plant. He enjoyed his newfound freedom and spending more time with his beloved wife, Jean. He had always been close to his son and daughter who, now grown and with children of their own, lived nearby and frequented the old homestead, regaled with Mom's gourmet meals and Dad's corny jokes. As the saying goes, "a good time was had by all."

When the dust had settled, so to speak, Jean returned to her projects and the usual routine of running the household. Melvin, after a little of this, that and the other, liked to call it a day (even if the day was hardly over) and slip upstairs into the guest bath. There was not only a shower but also a big and comfortable bathtub ... really comfortable, where you can actually lie back and soak, NOT the fiberglass jobs with a straight back and so short that even a pygmy has to draw up his knees to wedge himself in. The bonus feature was that now Melvin could soak and smoke and luxuriate in silky bubbles. Every day.

The old gent enjoyed this simple luxury not only for the simple pleasure it afforded him, but it seemed that, increasingly, he needed the therapeutic benefits of the hot water. He was feeling some deep-seated soreness that he couldn't account for. He hadn't been working all that strenuously in the garden and he really did get plenty of sleep at night, not to mention a few winks here and there throughout the day. Oh well, I always feel better once I'm out, Melvin thought to himself while lighting up another Lucky Strike. Think I'll spend a little while longer ... too soon to pull the plug ...

At the local hospital, Melvin is on life support. His son and daughter are huddled in a corner with their teary mother, talking to Melvin's doctor. They have to decide, given the old man's terminal condition, what to do at this juncture.

Comatose, and quite unfluttered over what has been tearing his family apart for the last several days, Melvin is enjoying his toasted tobacco and his hot bath. Quite out of the blue and a shock to all those in the room, Melvin lets out softly but distinctly, "Too soon to pull the plug...."