Scientists, Survival, Cockroaches, and Lies

I'm not falling for the "fact" that's been around for years and years about cockroaches being able to survive and thrive in event of nuclear war.  Really, Scientists, really?  Cockroaches have evolved enough to SURVIVE A NUCLEAR BLAST, but they haven't figured out how to survive a gentle smack with a FLIP-FLOP?! Just how gullible do you think people are??
Next time, before you spend all your "research" grant money on booze and floozies, at least have the courtesy to come up with a more plausible fake science project, Scientists.

Who needs Therapy? NOT Me!

Once upon a verrry long time ago, I got all mad at NightTime and I un-friended him on Facebook because I hated his guts and never wanted to have anything to do with him EVER again, EXACTLY like that Taylor Swift song that I hate but, until this very moment, I didn't realize that's WHY I hated that song so much.

*later that same day*

I wasn't mad anymore and, for some reason, I thought NightTime might give-a-care that I had un-friended him so I snuck his phone away from him, sent and accepted a new friend request, then deleted the evidence of the "new" friend and relationship activity (that sounds dirty... And GROSS, Facebook!) so as not to hurt his feelings, and he never, ever, EVER knew anything about it until he reads this later today! 

Salem/Marvin and the TP

Our Jagger hasn't done this yet. I think it's because it's not destructive or NOISY enough for the reputation he's trying to protect. Wants his own badboy reality TV show. We lied and told him the whole house was rigged with hidden cameras for his "show." But we also told him his Xanax was special "celebrity" candy. We had to, because we felt so guilty once we took away his whiskey.

Teach us to Love

Dear God,
Teach us to love others
And laugh at ourselves.
Teach us to serve others,
With unhurried, glad hearts.
Teach us to comfort, and be
as your arms here on earth.
Teach us to make
Kindness as much
A part of us as Breathing.

Officer, will you be my friend?

(As usual, all names, even wrong ones, have been changed, just in case they turn out to be right by accident)

I finally did it!  I succeeded in my plan to friend a cop so I can get out of tickets.  Whew.  And I'm not gonna share with ANY of you, so don't even ASK.

Y'all, I've LITERALLY been plotting this for YEARS, but just wasn't stalker-y enough to pull it off. 

(later that same day, when I woke up and got ready for work)

I think his name might be G-Something, last name possibly P-Something or B-Something...  Darnit.  WHY CAN'T I EVER REMEMBER THE NAMES OF MY new BESTest FRIENDS IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD??

Still not a stalker, though.  It was a purely serendipitous meeting.

You could say it all started when I got my very first speeding ticket at age sixteen, the VERY day after I got my driver's license.  But if you DID, you'd be a filthy lying liar with your pants on fire, because I was SEVENTEEN.

This part is also a True Story.
It really all started when I took care of a law enforcement person in Intensive Care a very looong time ago.  I was absolutely WONDERFUL.  Or, he could have just been happy to be alive.  Either way, he offered to fix any and all tickets for me. For EVER.
For about a year, I drove as if I had diplomatic immunity.  Speed Limit laws DO NOT apply to those of us who enjoy Diplomatic Immunity.  I ENJOY it verymuch.  They were good times.  All drive times were significantly shortened, since I didn't have to make sure I had "ticket money" in the bank every day.  Therefore, I was rarely late for work, etc.
Then, on what I now refer to as The Saddest Day of My Life, I realized that I had not only forgotten the NAME (first AND last), and TITLE of my favorite person (Officer...something or other), but even which branch of law enforcement he was involved in.  I only remember he was a regular looking white guy with (I think) brown hair.  I devoted much time trying to force myself to remember helpful details that might assist me with tracking him (or at least his NAME!) down.
The whole entire time that I remembered his name, I never ONCE got pulled over!  And I admit I was driving much faster than the posted limits.  Carefully, yes, but much, muuuuch faster.
Of course, I immediately experienced a return to my usual pattern of falling for speed traps and missing signs and getting tickets for like 46 in totally non-residential, open, extremely visible, 35 for-NO-good-reason areas.
I MISS that guy soooo much...

Good versus Goof versus Great

A friend's typo in a comment on a funny fb conversation between husband and wife:  You good balls!  (Auto-correct making jokes again!)
Me helping out, as usual:  I Googled this and found a Little Known Fact™ for ya.  I'm sure you've heard the catchy old song many times without knowing that it was originally called (goodness, gracious) GOOD Balls of Fire.  The label insisted on the change before the album was ever recorded, stating simply:  If you're a straight man in America in the fifties with the balls to go around singing about balls, you better be singing about GREAT ones!
Also, prior to the invention of cameras and prostate exams, the proper greeting from a young brave to a respected male elder was: (loosely translated) Good balls to you, to your ancestors, and to your descendants.  (And also, they had to put some ointment on them if the old guys couldn't reach.)
P.S. I used to fill out mad lids with a friend at work and we'd do theme rounds.  Hands-down favorite?  Inserting the word BALLS in every blank.  (I miss my old work friend.)

Oh, deer: stuck in the mud (allegedly)

My children claim this really happened.
Back when they were all still small enough to be picked up and carried around (individually, I'm NOT a body-builder!), we used to ride around in a white Ford Taurus station wagon.
One year, the deer were very populous and visible in our woods and sides of roads.  If you've ever had the misfortune to have one run straight at your car, you can understand the vigilant way you constantly scan for them while driving.  It was always a treat to see a live deer, AND to then NOT hit it with your car.  Being vegetarians, we just liked to look at them, and usually didn't tell any of the hunter/Fambly/neighbors about it until the next day.  I believe our record was seeing FIVE deer at one time.
So, as they tell it, we returned home one dark night and noted deer(s) in the thinly wooded area to the right of the really long driveway.  Of course, humans can see in the dark, too, if they have a flashlight or, in our case, a nice set of bright car headlights.
So the three promptly proceeded to beg and beg and beg until I finally gave in and pointed the headlights at the deer.  The car suffered some sort of unusual multi-system malfunction and just kinda sorta fell OFF the driveway and inTO some powerfully deep mud.  The deer scattered and disappeared, most likely into the quicksand.
After I heroically carried each child to the safety of the driveway, I returned, risking death by mud/quicksand, for the groceries, because near-death experiences while deer-watching makes one unbelievably hungry. 
Then we all trudged homewards in search of non-traditional road-side assistance for our "broken-down" vehicle.
Perhaps it was the Paw-Paw and the uncle who completed the vehicle recovery, or perhaps they were still at it when Pedro arrived home from working at the factory.  In either case, this story cannot be corroborated, and I continue to contend that it NEVER actually happened anyway.

(guest host) Enchiladas Macintosh Objectively Reviews Her Own Newly Released Book

The Mystical Magicology of Marriage in Modern Times by Enchiladas Macintosh
Subtitle(hidden inside the book jacket):  Make Your Marriage Work Forever and EVER, until he Eventually Kills You, and How to Ensure his Conviction Once You're No Longer Around to Testify Personally

It's a story as old as time itself:  True Love that ends up being NOT!  We've all been there, and most of us have managed to escape with our lives.  But SOMEbody has to make the Scott Petersons of the world PAY.   And that Someone is US!

A dear, sweet woman with a bee-fricking-you-T-ful baby girl recently came to us with a dilemma.  After she narrowly avoided an early morning execution/electrocution by her (formerly staunchly reliable, for nearly a decade of daily use) "faulty" hair dryer, her "loving" husband presented her with a brand new one, that SAME DAY, withOUT even being asked.  What to do, what to do?

Our panel of experts respond:
You can't trust "too" thoughtful these days.  On the other hand, you DO need to do something about that hair.  If you return the hair dryer to the store without first testing it, you could be putting a stranger's life in danger, because it will eventually be sold. And we can't yet rule out the remote possibility that this was as purported to be, an innocently kind gesture made by a man with NO current ideations of widower-bachelor-hood.  We recommend that you first meticulously observe the outermost packaging for any signs of tampering.  We actually recommend (and practice!) this step for every single item that appears in your home, unless you bring it in yourself.  Be on the lookout for different sized strips of tape, and more than one layer of tape on any seam.  When you open the box, again assess the situation visually first.  If all components fit neatly and snugly in the box, you can assume it to be fresh from the factory and store, unless there is a woman involved in the plot to get you.  Very few men have the skill or patience necessary to pull off the perfect "factory" re-pack, even if the success of their sinister plans rest heavily upon it.
Your next first step should be to locate the specially grounded bathroom or kitchen outlets, and push the TEST button.  Then, before plugging in any electrical "gifts" for the first time, don your Equipment.  Keep this equipment a secret, because the only way we know of to obtain it is via a complicated ruse that involves coordinating alibis, disguises, and get-a-way cars.  Your friend propositions a lineman, causing him to get out of all his safety gear in a hurry.  You grab the gear and GO, and then your friend runs for the get-a-way car as soon as she hears you honk the horn.  Although the lineman is likely to be a bit angry, he won't be running very fast,  barefoot in his tighty whities, as he will be at this point.  Still, your preparations must include really good disguises and the use of NO NAMES whatsoever.  The car can be "borrowed" OR disguised with water-soluble paint, which we saw in a movie once (no, we can't remember which movie).  First stop: country car wash (water hose back of a house carefully chosen ahead of time).  The paint hue should be chosen for its ability to blend in with the grass or concrete that it will end up on, rather than its aesthetic qualities.
Back to our advice about the dryer.  Where were we?  Ah, yes.  Now that you are appropriately attired for this possibly dangerous mission, you may plug in your appliance.  Good luck, and, should you survive, be sure to write back and let us know how it goes.
ALWAYS make sure SOMEONE knows where you are or where you're SUPPOSED to be!  
Order Digital or Hard Copies of this (predicted to be) wildly popular marriage manual for ALL the women on your gift-giving list. It's a jam-packed Treasure, chock-full of helpful pro-active measures you can take NOW to assure the timely conviction of your spouse when you disappear, or when your body is eventually found.  It is already THE top bridal shower gift of the Twenty Teens!   Some excerpts follow.

Chapter One
The best-laid plans are OURS!

For example, and we CANNOT stress this too much, NEVER waste any of your own blood!  Even the smallest paper cut can be used to plant seeds of (future) suspicion if you smear it in his trunk, preferably on the trunk fabric lining, plus on a crowbar or some other murdery items that nobody ever cleans.  Any new automo-purchases should be immediately suspected as future transport devices for your remains, and should be "marked" as well.  Additionally,if you get any visible blood on anything, you should be diligent about scrubbing it away, for several reasons.  1.  Only a person planning a "frame-up" would be careless enough to leave visible blood around!  And don't worry about leaving even bleach burns in hard to see or get-to areas, even if they were accidental.  Bleach marks are particularly helpful clues because, to the CSI team, it will look like someone (you know who!) was trying hard to get rid of evidence.  2.  If he gets wind about any of this, he may try to do you in JUST to PROOOVE you WRONG and win an argument for once!  LET him win an argument now and then.  Only you will be able to determine the safe win/lose ratio that will sustain your relationship, as well as both of your lives.  However, our book does include several valuable quizzes and calculators you can use to make sure you do it RIGHT.

Chapter Two:  A Look at the Pros and Cons of Various Types of Evidence

1.  Hair 
Hair is by far the most popular evidence used.  It is arguably the easiest to obtain, but it is very circumstantial and, without corroborating evidence, it is highly unlikely to result in a conviction.  If you can manage it without drawing attention, make sure there is always a strand or two of your own hair in his best friend's trunk.  They will both be hard-pressed to come up with an answer to lines of questioning that begin like this:  Sir, what was she doing in your TRUNK?

2.  Nails, finger and toe
Don't throw away those gross clippings he leaves lying around!  Unlike hair, these require careful preparation.  They need to be dirtified and roughened up to appear they were broken off his hands during a struggle.  Don't worry, the book contains detailed instructions for all prep work.  Where nails are concerned, less is better.  I know y'all might be tempted to use a whole bunch of them rather than waste them, but even the most naive investigator knows that it is highly unlikely for anyone to have ALL their nails ripped off in a single struggle.

3.  Blood
NEVER WASTE IT!
As Covered in Chapter One

also elaborated on in Chapter Two:

4.  Fingerprints, his and hers and theirs
Where to leave yours.  (In the tire well in his best friend's trunk!)
How to obtain his in a useable format.  

5. Texts and emails
Creating an electronic "paper trail" to guide the investigation.

Make Your Marriage Work book clubs for women ONLY are springing up all over the country!  Joining one now is the best way to assure your own safety and/or the successful prosecution of your murderer.
We know you love him, and he's probably super hot and a lovely kisser, but he killed you, and we WILL NOT stand for that!

Do y'all remember that time we all went to Greece, or possibly Tennessee?

I recently came across this old picture and posted it on facebook.  It got waaaaay more reaction than I anticipated.  The names of all the people (living or dead), whether pictured, commenting, or referred to, have been changed to protect their reputations, especially since there are accusations of theft, and some of the punctuation is missing (probably stolen).  Also, everybody but me seems to be suffering from ADD.

MisterNiceGuy: LOOOOOVEEE! Where is this? (September 4 at 9:58pm)

NaughtyorNice: Definitely not Greece! (September 4 at 10:01pm )

DayTime: I love how EnchiladasMacintosh is the only one not looking at the camera. (September 5 at 12:16am)

Enchiladas: I was going through my aboriginal phase and I thought the camera would steal my soul if I looked at it. (September 5 at 3:25am)

LongShot: No wonder I can't find most of my pictures. I told TractorTrailer last night that there has been a picture thief at our house. Closing in on the suspect now. (September 5 at 5:50am)

LongShot: And really, y'all do where this is at. Right? (September 5 at 5:51am)

NaughtyorNice: Well, at least this thief is scanning and posting them so all of us can enjoy them! (September 5 at 5:56am)

LongShot: I think there may be several of them, all female. (September 5 at 5:59am)

Enchiladas: I don't HAVE a hard copy of any of the old pictures. I believe NaughtyorNice scanned most of them at my house to make a slide show. You can tell on the "originals" on my computer that many of them are on album pages. I just crop out individual ones sometimes. (September 5 at 6:14am)

LongShot: What slide show? (September 5 at 6:16am)

Enchiladas: I found a folder titled: Uncle Wrigley's pictures, so I think that several different people provided pictures to be scanned, in addition to pictures he kept in his wallet or house. (September 5 at 6:22am)

LongShot: No wonder I can't find that envelope. Or is it one of those big yellow envelopes? I was talking to TractorTrailer about Wrigley's pictures a couple days ago and had not a clue where it was at. (September 5 at 6:31am)

Enchiladas: I DON'T HAVE THE PICTURES! I have a COMPUTER FOLDER full of (now) DIGITAL IMAGES! September 5 at 6:34am)

NaughtyorNice: Sorry I jumped to conclusions!! Glad you have them. Please keep sharing! (September 5 at 6:36am)

LongShot: OK let me understand. You have a folder on your computer marked: "Wrigley's pictures". Now do I have it right? (September 5 at 6:45am)

Enchiladas: Yes! I do not have rows and rows of filing cabinets filled with photographs, stolen or otherwise. (September 5 at 6:52am)

Enchiladas: To further clarify, I believe the pictures were all returned to whoever submitted them for scanning. Bring me like a flash drive or something and you can have digital copies of whatever you want. (September 5 at 7:05am)

Petunia: Where was this taken? (September 5 at 7:24am)

Enchiladas: Petunia, my Mom (LongShot) seems to know, but I can only surmise it is somewhere in Tennessee, since that's the only place we ever went outside of Woolmarket, for family reunions. (September 5 at 7:35am)

Petunia: For the life of me, I can't remember. That would have been around the time this picture was taken by the looks of us :) love you guys. (September 5 at 7:37am)

Starbucks: If I remember right this was in tn at the lookout point that has the battle field things. It looks like a bunch of us kids are mad at the world. (September 5 at 8:01am)

LongShot: Starbucks, yes it is top of Lookout Mountain at Point Park and was taken in 1985, a few months before MinnieMouse had her stroke. (September 5 at 9:35am)

LongShot: Enchiladas, I have that photo copier and am trying to get all my pictures scanned so I can grab the external hard drive I am putting them on and can grab it and run in case of fire or hurricane. Of course that depends on if I can put my hands on it when I need it you can then have copies of all my pictures. Might take years to get it all done. Want to help me sometime? (September 5 at 9:40am)

Sunflower: i totally remember this trip. i talk about it all the time. (September 5 at 12:16pm)

Enchiladas: Sunflower, I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not! (September 5 at 12:21pm)

Sunflower: no way..i really do remember that trip..lookout mountain was so cool..i would love to take my kids one day. i think they would have alot of fun. they had a swing bridge that the boys walked acrossed ...it was so high up it scared most of us but the boys all walked across and made it rock..i will never forget that swinging bridge. (September 5 at 12:24pm)

LongShot: I was one of the best times ever. I also remember the one who could spot every McDonald's on the drive. Do you remember the drive took us way too many hours because we stop for way too many times. We were all awestruck. (September 5 at 12:27pm)

Enchiladas: Please tell me we were "awestruck" because of the majesty of nature and not by how many McDonald'ses there were. (September 5 at 12:34pm)

LongShot: majesty of nature of course! (September 5 at 12:38pm)

LongShot: off the subject, but did you get my text? (September 5 at 12:40pm)

Enchiladas: Who took the picture, do you think? Also, that was a LOT of people in that little Ford Falcon, especially without air conditioning. Remember how we had to take turns holding the smaller children? (September 5 at 12:52pm)

Starbucks: This really brings back a great memory. I do know that Sunflower could spot the golden arch miles in advanced. It was a good thing seat belts were not the law at that time. Our parents would have been put in jail not only no seat belts but way to many in a small car. Good times for sure. (September 5 at 1:08pm)

Enchiladas: I think if we got pulled over, the cops would've made us all get out of the car, just for the whole clown-car effect! And it's hard to write tickets when you're laughing that hard. (September 5 at 1:12pm)

LongShot: I hope I never forget that trip. I'm glad I have pictures to remember it. (September 5 at 1:12pm)

LongShot: Enchiladas, aren't you supposed to be sleeping? (September 5 at 1:13pm)

Enchiladas: Mama, for HEAVEN'S SAKE, I'm almost 40 years old! I don't HAVE a BED-TIME anymore!!! (September 5 at 1:20pm)

LongShot: TheGreat took the picture, she was our tour guide. We went in two vehicles. TheGreat's big car and our station wagon that kept overheating. (September 5 at 3:26pm)

LongShot: Jethro's in the picture, but he rode up with Gruff. (September 5 at 3:26pm)

Enchiladas: I was kinda hoping the car over-heating was not a real memory. It was freaking Ju-LY! (September 5 at 4:00pm)

LongShot: The car ran hot, we were ok. (September 5 at 4:59pm)

GlueStick: Enchiladas, you are looking at NaughtyorNice "LIKE REALLY NAUGHTY OR NICE, A SMILE?" I see that look from Starbucks all the time so nothing has change with that look! (September 5 at 5:48pm)

MoonBeam: Got a good laugh reading these comments. The main thing I remember is BeenThereDoneThat burning a hole in my sleeve slamming some Pop Rocks on me. I think he got in big trouble for that one! (September 6 at 8:28pm)

Petunia: I remember the trip too. I couldn't remember the year. Sunflower and I have talked about it often. Not only could Sunflower spot all the mcdonalds but TheGreat could spot all the wendy's for frostys. She had an internal Wendy's GPS. I remember all of us being lost because of no television; we weren't quite sure what we were supposed to do all day. (September 7 at 1:39pm)

LongShot: The BuriedAlives weren't lost without TV those days. (September 7 at 3:12pm)

Petunia: true it was me and Sunflower :) (September 7 at 3:58pm)

Sunflower: Petunia, do you remember that TheGreat kept telling us that the house we were gonna stay in did not have indoor plumbing..we were so scared of having to go use an out house...we were so happy when we got there and saw a bathroom... TheGreat and MinnieMouse laughed for a long time..but we didnt...ok, i do now:) (September 7 at 4:34pm)

Petunia: I had forgotten about that but i do remember it now. Remember that first breakfast I don't think i have ever seen such a big breakfast even on a breakfast buffet lol.(September 7 at 4:35pm)

Sunflower: yep..i think it was also the first time we had... SUN DROP.. drink, we were so excited about it. it has become real big up here in the past 2 years.. i tried it agin.. yuck, i dont know what we were thinking..haha (September 7 at 4:40pm)

Petunia: lol i remember that. i dont drink pop any more; 1 year sober lol no pop. (September 7 at 5:05pm)

LongShot: Good for you Petunia! RollerSkates is off soda too. I am so proud of y'all. (September 7 at 7:06pm)

RollerSkates: Thanks Sister. Love you all. (September 8 at 3:19pm)

Get lost, Navvy! (I don't need YOU to help ME get lost! I happen to be somewhat of an expert at it, thankyouverymuch.)

I don't know about the rest of you, but I've had enough of the condescending, judgmental, holier-than-thou tone of my phone's Map/Navigator.  Where does she get the nerve to disrespect me like she does?!  What a colossal length of toilet paper stuck on the bottom of a stranger's shoe when they step out of the only port-a-potty at a monster truck rally/mullet festival!  (See what I did there, children?  I WANTED to use a bad word, but I CHOSE not to.)  (Actually, I went back and replaced the bad word I had previously typed.  Still counts, though!) She can't even pronounce simple words like Biloxi, Woolmarket, Gulfport, or Saucier, for Pete's sake (NOT his real name). 
True Story: Navvy hates me SO much that her favorite pastime is waiting until I'm like a mile  into a several mile stretch, concentrating on driving instead of her, and then she FORCE CLOSES, knowing good and well that it'll BE a while before I start missing her, in the form of wondering why she hasn't said anything lately.  Then we have ourselves a good laugh.  Which is another way of saying that I call her every bad word I know, plus I have to make up some on the spot because none of the words I know are QUITE descriptive enough.  Then I pull over and call a friend and ask them to have someone go outside and listen for my car horn.  Using this bizarre version of Marco Polo, I usually arrive in time to lick the leftover frosting off the paper plates before the host throws them away, providing I was already within sound range when Navvy aborted our mission and commandeered my phone to google: how to apply for a restraining order against a human.  I'm convinced "Smart" phones will soon be the downfall of civilization as we know it, and I'll bet you five bucks they use funny YouTube videos posted on their phony Facebook pages to distract us while they take over. 
I staunchly defend my rights as a consumer/driver.  Shouldn't it be up to ME if I want to take a detour, side road, scenic route, or even drive past The Secret Crack House to offer my services as a volunteer, or to see what my extended family is up to these days?  Why does she sound all huffy when she has to recalculate?  Am I keeping her from something better?  Hot date?  Her other job as the worst phone sex operator in the world?  In THIS economy, and with HER attitude, I think she should appreciate that she even HAS a job!  Hey, Navvy:  When we're in the car, I am the BOSS of you.  Go back and read your official Job Description if you don't believe me.
I have to admit that Navvy has inspired me, though.  I've developed an app targeted to people like me, those special people who refuse to waste their brain's gifts on mundane trivia (directions, phone numbers, their kids' birthdays-you get the picture) and tasks that they can delegate to an electronic assistant.
My app is called Hotter/Colder™, and it's very easy to use.  Just make sure someone you know is already where you want to end up, and that their phone's location is findable to yours.  Simply text: TAKE ME TO (their name or number here) to the app, put your phone on speaker and your car in drive!  You can confidently lay your phone down until you get there, something you could NEVER do with Navvy.
Your friendly NEW navigator will respond to your ever-changing global position with helpful hints and affirmations instead of directions, and he'll do this in whatever accent you choose, with Sexy Australian being the default voice.  Specifically, he will say HOTTER or COLDER until you arrive at your destination.  Every once in a while, he'll throw in a sincere sounding compliment about your appearance, taste in music, cooking, or driving skills.  I like to run Navvy in the background to make her jealous of all the attention I'm getting from the new guy.  She HATES that. 
This app is so great that you'll WANT to take the long way, just so you can spend more time with him!  Also, you don't even wanna KNOW how much the fine is for blowing your horn non-stop for twenty minutes, after nine, within city limits.     

(Guest Host) Pretendra: shame on me (in which I discover that I've mis-judged a person based on appearance)

***WARNING***THIS POST IS SERIOUS***
I've spent many years and countless hours interacting with people whose behavior served to reinforce stereotypes projected by their appearance.  A change occurred in me, and new walls went up,  so gradually that I didn't even know it had happened.
When I saw a muscley young white male, covered in tattoos, with an altered level of consciousness, and vital signs strongly indicative of illicit drug use, overdose, and/or withdrawal, I didn't mean to think twice about it.  In my line of work, this whole scenario is pretty common, and I've been proud of myownself for understanding that drug, alcohol, and even nicotine addictions are powerful and often devastating to those who suffer (yes-SUFFER) from them.  
Concerned family members frequented his bedside at every opportunity, and I wondered vaguely if one of them had discovered him unresponsive, how many times they had been through this with him before, and how many times they would be willing to repeat it before giving up on him.
For seven nights I marched back and forth, past the glass doors that separated him from me and the rest of the world, past the doors that proved completely ineffective against condemnation.  He lay there for seven nights, alone, critically ill, in all likelihood frightened and in pain, unable to communicate his feelings or needs, yet I pitied him not one bit.  I did not feel the pangs of empathy or concern that I usually feel, and I continued to make silent assumptions regarding his character.
My own shortcomings allowed me to look at this PERSON, this fellow human being, repeatedly, without SEEING him, without caring.
A great shame filled my heart when I admitted to myself what I'd done... Who or WHAT had I become when I wasn't paying attention?
It makes no difference whether the conclusions I had drawn were correct (they weren't), or that he will never know I had drawn any conclusions about him at all because his care and treatment would not be affected (they weren't).  
Life-altering moments are more common than they seem, but it's up to us individually to summon the courage to go all the way through the glass doors, receptive to the growth and change waiting for us on the other side.         
That young man will never know how big a role he played in rescuing me from ever-increasing apathy, leading me back to the path of universality of the human condition, and giving ME another chance to be a better person.