White Coat Flight

What's Up, Doc!

I'm sure it's nothing I said or did, but my primary physician has fled to the burbs. (Cedarburg) This burg and I share some history since it is where my latest wife graduated from high school. I attended her high school reunion with her.

Located on a river with a prominent waterfall, this cozy outpost is home to a hotbed of big box retail, some manufacturing, lots of car dealerships and confusing borderlines with Thiensville and Mequon. Yet, it's not entirely a new suburb because it has a pleasant historic district and some fascinating history. For example, many years ago, it was a recording hub for black musicians who were not welcome in traditional recording companies.

What it doesn't have is a bus service. Seeing I don't have a home to mortgage, I won't be taking an Uber out there. It's not in Milwaukee County, so neither of the senior ride services can ferry me.

I switched to a more conveniently located clinic here on the lower east side of Milwaukee. Then, at the last minute, I splurged for an Uber. While the walk to the streetcar stop isn't terribly long, it was dangerously hot and humid today.

Good news, I'm basically healthy for my age. My minor aches and pain are being sensibly managed. It seems I'm probably good for a few hundred thousand miles or more.

My Latest Painting

This is an oil painting modeled from a photograph taken by a photographer from The NYT.

The subjects are victims of the earthquake in Afghanistan.

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Ring The Bell

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It's time again.

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