Pop Meets Haute Cuisine at the Hotel Not-So-Hot

Infected, inspected, injected, detected and neglected. That was my father in the hospital this last week for some tests...

Okay, well, it's also Arlo Guthrie's "Alice's Restaurant." But this version is without all the singing in four-part harmony with feelin'. Trust me on this.

I must say, it isn't exactly easy to keep the "hum" in humor blogging while also worriedly stalking a parent, hundreds of miles away, to find out the latest on his condition.

However. After my Pop's stay in the Hotel Not-So-Hot, which he accepted like a real trooper, I hoped to lighten the discussion by asking him about the hospital food. I mean, what's a better, more common joke-- what brings people together of all races, creeds, and hairstyles-- than a discussion of the poor quality of hospital food? It seemed a can't-miss moment.

And see, I've mentioned this before, but the Popper has never eaten often. Nope, I think he finds the whole breakfast, lunch and dinner shebang to be a fairly kooky, bewildering, and excessive process.

In fact, the way he talks about it, even I-- a lunch-and-dinner person-- come away feeling a bit like a flagrant calorie intaker gorging myself like Jabba the Hutt on senior slug discount night at Mos's-- the planet Mos Isely's one-and-only, all-you-can-eat buffet...

(Star Wars Nerds, please do not email me saying that Jabba the Hutt never went to Mos Isley. He hauled his big sluggy butt there for the purposes of this example, 'kay?)

Now, where was I?

Oh, right. The Popper's One-Real-Meal-a-Day Strategy. So in the Wide World of Dad, Pop has this theory that what people really need is seven Ritz crackers or a handful of peanuts, to fill the long space of hungries between morning coffee and the more elaborate evening meal. He's always very specific about it. Seven Ritz crackers.

So I ask Pop after his stay, how exactly was the hospital food? Expecting to hear about food overkill plus canned spinach and mystery meat, and a mind-boggling lack of Ritz crackers.

But it turns out Five-Star bistros in the Restaurant Guidebook of New York apparently have NOTHING on this facility of healthcare kitchen! I mean the man could not SAY ENOUGH about the fine cuisine he experienced during his stay.

He began with, "And there were three meals a day!" with a tone of delight and wonder usually reserved for describing Disney rides.

Or the birth of a child.

And then he went on that there was even DESSERT! And there was a NUTRITIONIST who came by and wanted to make sure he was eating all right, and...

Why, to hear him talk, it was like a spa vacation! A spa vacation with needles and bags of fluids and a guy in the next bed breathing in gurgling wheezes all night. But a vacation nonetheless.

So thanks, hospital-near-Pop for looking after my dear father and giving him great care and possibly some of the best food he's had in a while, though that scares me a bit.

It's beginning to confirm a suspicion I've had all along... which is that my good ol' dad's stance on mealtime is not really related to a three-meals-a-day issue but, in fact, connected directly to an "I'll eat it if you bring it" philosophy.

The other alternative is that, Hospital Folks, you have cloned my Pop and possibly have given me back the wrong one.

It could be that the clone is out and about, enjoying three squares a day now, while Real Pop is still there with you, insisting that all he really needs to survive during the next eight to ten hours is seven Ritz crackers or a palmful of peanuts in the shell.

Which is it? Because, honestly, I'd like to have the clone for a day or so around Thanksgiving. The seven Ritz crackers aren't quite what I hope for when I visit at the holidays. In fact, I've taken to bucking the system and bringing my own snacks. So I figure, at the very least, we might be able to hit the hospital cafeteria one day, and enjoy an elegant, festive lunch of grilled cheese, three-bean salad and Jell-0.

I mean, there's nothing like a bit of mealtime camaraderie with the ones you love.


To all the Dads and Grand-dads who visit Of Cabbages and Kings, I hope your Father's Day is very special.

--------------------------------------
Humor-blogs is fortifying for your funny bone.