I love the setting Danny. ERs are prosceniums of human projection. I have oodles of experience in ERs and imagine them as Heaven's bus station. Maybe my ignoring Hell speaks to my innate positivity; or is it wishful thinking? By the way, ER docs and nurses literally see it all. Protected by their senses of humor, they tell great stories at parties, leaving out - of course - any identifying markers. But for "passers through" like us, ER hallways are the casting rooms of thousands of possible dramas, and our story-telling brains relentlessly try to fit each face into a scenario. As a younger man I used to opine that I'd like to spend my retirement sitting in a folding-chair in a bus station of a major city, just watching the comings and goings of my fellow humans. And what would I be doing? I'd be watching the faces come and go, enjoying my aging cerebellum shoehorn each passing soul into a merry-go-round of scenarios, relentlessly created by my own imagination. I considered this an infinitely richer use of dwindling time than settling at the beach, watching the waves crash and thunder by.
Thanks so much Jack! And your idea about watching the comings and goings of life at the bus station has a really Tom Waits-y romantic appeal for me, I must say. And yea it all worked out fine for us, but still seeing people for whom that isn’t that case is something.
I love the setting Danny. ERs are prosceniums of human projection. I have oodles of experience in ERs and imagine them as Heaven's bus station. Maybe my ignoring Hell speaks to my innate positivity; or is it wishful thinking? By the way, ER docs and nurses literally see it all. Protected by their senses of humor, they tell great stories at parties, leaving out - of course - any identifying markers. But for "passers through" like us, ER hallways are the casting rooms of thousands of possible dramas, and our story-telling brains relentlessly try to fit each face into a scenario. As a younger man I used to opine that I'd like to spend my retirement sitting in a folding-chair in a bus station of a major city, just watching the comings and goings of my fellow humans. And what would I be doing? I'd be watching the faces come and go, enjoying my aging cerebellum shoehorn each passing soul into a merry-go-round of scenarios, relentlessly created by my own imagination. I considered this an infinitely richer use of dwindling time than settling at the beach, watching the waves crash and thunder by.
Really enjoyed this, Danny. ERs certainly are wild places. You certainly illustrated the confusion, the revolving door of those coming and going and the partial knowledge about all of it.
Jack Coyle
Jack’s Substack
just now
I love the setting Danny. ERs are prosceniums of human projection. I have oodles of experience in ERs and imagine them as Heaven's bus station. Maybe my ignoring Hell speaks to my innate positivity; or is it wishful thinking? By the way, ER docs and nurses literally see it all. Protected by their senses of humor, they tell great stories at parties, leaving out - of course - any identifying markers. But for "passers through" like us, ER hallways are the casting rooms of thousands of possible dramas, and our story-telling brains relentlessly try to fit each face into a scenario. As a younger man I used to opine that I'd like to spend my retirement sitting in a folding-chair in a bus station of a major city, just watching the comings and goings of my fellow humans. And what would I be doing? I'd be watching the faces come and go, enjoying my aging cerebellum shoehorn each passing soul into a merry-go-round of scenarios, relentlessly created by my own imagination. I considered this an infinitely richer use of dwindling time than settling at the beach, watching the waves crash and thunder by.
Thanks so much Jack! And your idea about watching the comings and goings of life at the bus station has a really Tom Waits-y romantic appeal for me, I must say. And yea it all worked out fine for us, but still seeing people for whom that isn’t that case is something.
I love the setting Danny. ERs are prosceniums of human projection. I have oodles of experience in ERs and imagine them as Heaven's bus station. Maybe my ignoring Hell speaks to my innate positivity; or is it wishful thinking? By the way, ER docs and nurses literally see it all. Protected by their senses of humor, they tell great stories at parties, leaving out - of course - any identifying markers. But for "passers through" like us, ER hallways are the casting rooms of thousands of possible dramas, and our story-telling brains relentlessly try to fit each face into a scenario. As a younger man I used to opine that I'd like to spend my retirement sitting in a folding-chair in a bus station of a major city, just watching the comings and goings of my fellow humans. And what would I be doing? I'd be watching the faces come and go, enjoying my aging cerebellum shoehorn each passing soul into a merry-go-round of scenarios, relentlessly created by my own imagination. I considered this an infinitely richer use of dwindling time than settling at the beach, watching the waves crash and thunder by.
Really enjoyed this, Danny. ERs certainly are wild places. You certainly illustrated the confusion, the revolving door of those coming and going and the partial knowledge about all of it.
Thanks James. Yea it was a wild night. I sat there for six hours and SO much happened.
That sure is a heavy closing behinding door, Danny!
Thanks Adrian. It was very heaving, indeed.
****EDIT****** I mean "heavy," buy "heaving" works too I think!