Posted by fústar in 
Spent an hour and a half, yesterday afternoon, sitting – stiff, sore, and deeply bored – in a doctor's waiting room/corridor until I was finally seen (and given a routine prescription).
Not only did my fellow patients and I am seem to be inhabiting a hellish, inter-dimensional space where every second was an hour, and every hour a century, but all we had for reading material were a few ancient and tattered copies of Hello! and the Sunday Independent's "Life" Magazine.
Well it was either stare at the lime-green walls for an hour and go slowly mad, or thumb through the ragged glossies on display…so 'twas the latter option that I chose.
I'd forgotten, due to a lengthy absence from such waiting rooms, how much reading about cocktail parties, premieres, regattas, royal engagements etc., tends to bring out the fevered revolutionary in me. I was half way through constructing an old-timey anarchist bomb from bits and pieces I found lying around the waiting room by the time I was eventually called.
Anyway, I'm on the mend (slowly) now…despite residual feelings of glitterati-induced nausea…
[tags]Sunday Independent,Hello,Anarchism[/tags]
Wellness wished, of course.
Whenever I have to pass my time in these waiting spaces, I am left with similar choices- or the token man magazine, which is always about boats, F1 cars or golf. I hate those magazines more. I sometimes think that, instead of recycling magazines, I ought to do a drop once a quarter down to the doctor’s. Broaden the range a bit.
Excellent idea, Simon…as long as you deliver a selection to my doctor while you’re at it. There was (I believe) a golf magazine present but I never, at any stage, considered flicking through it (I wasn’t that bored).
There was an episode of Seinfeld where Gerry visited the dentist and found an issue of Penthouse in the waiting room. I would never brush my teeth again. Or, at the very least, instead of toothpaste I’d use caramel.
fústar, IF one of your family was in the dental profession what class of mag would they stock then?
Foolhardy – there was also a Seinfeld episode where Jerry was, erm, ‘fiddled with’ when he was under an anasthetic at his dentist, so let’s hope Fústar’s doctor didn’t put him under.
By the way, I believe VIP would be the magazine of choice for a Fústar-related dentist.
Old-timey Anarchist Bombs! Yes!The fizz of the burning fuse, the shiny blackness of the bomb. The fact that bombs really did used to look like that, and not just in cartoons. Ah, old-timey Anarchist Bombs. How I do love them.
The episode in which Jerry finds the Penthouse in the waiting room and the one where he finds himself ‘fiddled with’ are one and the same episode – “The Jimmy”.
Before Jerry is put under with the gas, the dentist – Tim Whatley – takes a hit of the gas himself! When Jerry comes round he blurrily sees Whatley and the nurse adjusting their clothing, tucking themselves back in etc.
Jerry later asks “Is this guy a dentist or Caligula?”
To which Elaine replies “Okay…So you were violated by two people while you were under the gas. So what? You’re single.”
I wasn’t put under I’m glad to say, although he did ‘touch me up’ and caused me pain.
Oh, and foolhardy, IF one of my family was a dentist he/she’d probably stock a 90% Golf Magazine and 10% V.I.P. mix.
Fergal,
You’d want to be careful about expressing too much admiration for old-timey anarchist bombs. I can hear ECHELON turning its ear in our direction as we speak.
Such devices are making a comeback I believe, and Dubya wants to crack down on ‘em:
Golf magazines. Can ANYONE tell me the point?
I once spotted a journal in the library of the UFKAUCG (University Formerly Known As UCG) called, catchily, Concrete. I suspect I wouldn’t have been able to put it down had I the strength to pick it up. Ho ho.
I can’t be of any assistance in explaining golf magazines.
Never mind chuckles of the ‘good walk spoiled’ variety. Golf is a way for tedious people to fill in the time before the grave swallows them up, to everyone’s satisfaction.
I quite like pitch and putt though. Or that one in Salthill where you have to knock the little ball through the windmill.
You never see magazines for that game on the newsagent shelves though.
Simon,
A Crazy Golf periodical could be the next big media phenomenon.
Also consider:
Monopoly Monthly.
The Dog Walkers Digest.
The possibilities are endless.
This may well be old news but it’s the first I’ve heard of it: Martin Sheen is to become an undergrad at NUIG.
[Link]
“Shantalla… shit; I’m still only in Shantalla… Every time I think I’m gonna wake up back in the jungle”
why would he become an undergraduate when they have already given him a doctorate. What an idiot.
Um, perhaps because he wants to learn something. A radical notion I know but some people study because they’re interested.
Worryingly, there’s a golf mag which seems to think it’s hip and edgy: http://www.bogeymag.com/. “Old Game. New Breed” is the strap line. I’ve been an occasional tv golf viewer for many years (golf is for watching on TV four times a year. Not for playing, not with all the golfers you’d have to meet) and can affirm that the new breed always look and act just like the old breed.
A better strapline might have been “Young Guys, Same Shit”.
I too have been known to watch the very odd bit of golf, but surely 3 times a year is enough, Fergal. I mean, who can be bothered with the PGA? You’d be mortified if that was your only major…
The last time I played, however, was when I briefly (foolishly) became a student member of a local course when I was a young fella of 15/16. Some of the senior members treated us, and the ‘ladies’, like absolute shit…so I quickly traded in my clubs for a guitar. Much more sensible.
I’m with Simon on Pitch and Putt though. All the advantages (such as they are) of golf, and none of the insufferable cack that goes with it.
Also gracing the shelves is “Golf Punk” magazine.
Why is there such a disconnect between the concept and reality of “K’raaaizee” golf?
I know what I’m expecting when I arrive at the course and it ain’t the Leisureland version, not that it doesn’t have its own charme discrét.