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The Ghosts of Podiatry Past

Posted by Dr. Huey Lewi on 10/09/00 at 21:56 (030131)

Patrons of the Foot-Board!

In the name of science and for the sake of my continuing and torrid passion for foot-health, I have hobbled myself!

Davy, as you probably have learned, wishes to try his new contraption on my withered plantars. Unfortunately, although I am maintained by only diluted pottage and imitation bacon bits, my plantar discomfort is minimal... so, in the name of chiropodic philanthropy, I have tried to simulate more precisely the plantar pain so frightfully rampant among you. I have immersed myself feverishly in the typical life-style of the foot-board patrons. First, I spent the better part of 12 hours gorging myself with pork rinds dipped in mayonnaise, generous lard and tallow sandwiches, and heaping bowls of Capt'n Crunch. I am pleased to say I gained 100-stone overnight, fraying my plantars to near rupture! Then, I compressed my ancient hooves into four-inch spiked heels and made sudden springs from the basement stairs onto the concrete below. Finally, I danced the entire second act of Giselle upon a bed of landscape gypsum, stopping only to hydrate myself with gin gimlets and plates of creamed herring. Fait accompli, sufferers! I am now ready for my treatment.

But, I must confess to you my deepest fears... as I prepare for my golden moment, the ghosts of podiatry past haunt me. What awaits me, after so many long years in this, my prison? These are the tribulations of Dr. Cornelius Huey Lewi, DPM; what if these ghosts confront me behind the cellar door?

* My swarthy charwoman Lupe, confessing to the world that my beloved second child is not mine, but the issue of my nemesis Simon Halegingerafloat? I will strangle the Judas with my platinum truss!

*The Bigglesworth-Snopes Body-Bag Emporium, demanding payment!

* Judith! Will she demand her lace socks? Even in the corridors of my senile mind, her voice rattles forth like the death cry of some pre-historic bird!

* Melvin, my last son, and Steve, his hairdresser-roommate, stepping forth from the closet as I step forth from the cellar. Could the noble Lewi have sired such a fancy-man? Melvin, my son! Why did I let you play with my Gretta Garbo wig collection, for the love of God!

* John H., who has abandoned me and fled away with Fang-Soot the Flexible Chinee acupuncturist to practice reflexology in Thailand! Farewell, soulmate! Farewell!

* The arrogant bastard, President Taft!

* My mistress Wendy, first victim of the automated spavined bursa trowel... I assure you, the locking winch slipped and the dorsal mechanical spigot dislodged through no fault of my own! I promise to mold you the very finest plastic feet in the land, complete with painted pink toe-nails. Forgive me, and return to your Huey-Loo!

* The dachshund!

* Davy! Will he complete the final phase of our treatment with the Old Bassoon, or will he abandon me to the horrors of the Home for Aged Chiropods? Will I be cured, or will I languish forever beneath an electric blanket, held in thrall by 'The Price is Right' like an idiot man-child?

* The War Crimes tribunal at The Hague!

* Scott R. Assassin! Demagogue! Autocrat! He runs the Foot-Board like Generalissimo Franco. I shall post to any board I like and write about swiss chard if it suits my fancy, plantar fascist!

* Nancy - my only true love! No sacrifice was too great to procure her happiness! No nightsplint too tight! No orthotic too hard! Why did I open the cellar door? There is nothing a man wouldn't do for his wife. There is even more he would do for his SISTER! Oh, the horrors of a sinful hoof-man. Oh, my black soul!

The ghosts of podiatry past... how they haunt me!

I remain most sincerely,

Dr. Huey Lewi, DPM

Re: The Ghosts of Podiatry Past

john a on 10/10/00 at 08:35 (030156)

At first I was merely jealous, as a child might be of a schoolchum receiving
all the lauds and accolades. But now, I can only genuflect in awe, bowing
humbly before your lyric mastery of shimmering prose - quaintly stilted,
winsomely antiquated, wit and imagination rife. Bravo, Sir Lewi! (of
course, I'm still jealous :-)

Re: The Ghosts of Podiatry Past

Nancy S. on 10/10/00 at 08:49 (030159)

Former husband Dr. Lewi:

Despite all, I am thankful that the plantar fascist did not cause you to expire.

I fear, however, that you shall indeed end up more the idiot man-child than you already are if you do not prepare further for Davy's bassoon treatment. Your frayed plantars still sound too intact to me.

My advice: Sit still for another twelve years, with your calf muscles screwed tightly into vises, with monthly breaks to try to lift eighty bassoons at once with your plantars unprotected by footwear, even pink slippers.

Your sister innuendo sounds straight of Dickens, and I'm trying to ignore it.

I'm trying to help you, Huey. Now cut out those imitation bacon bits, like I said before.

your only true, but disappointed, love,
Nancy Lewi S.

Re: The Ghosts of Podiatry Past

JudySL on 10/10/00 at 12:34 (030173)

Yet again the closet releases a skeleton......
Sister? True Love?

The voice you hear, dear senile ex-husband, IS that of a pre-historic bird! Do you not remember the cloning experiment carried on by you and your cohort, Dr. Halegingerafloat (in what is now Davy's sub-celler) which ended in tragedy as your 'experiment' flew away with your not-yet mentioned sixth son in it's craven beak? Is it any wonder that your 'procedure' to graft the hoof of an emu on to young John h's granddaddy's anklebone was a very sorry attempt at further genetic experimentation? (You may as well tell young Master John that he need no longer endure various diagnosis or treatment - he comes by his 'afflictions' through birth and no amount of medicine will fix that!)
Clearly you forget that I've had the true honor of sharing a sing and a stage with none other than the great Nightingale herself - and to the accolades of thousands! Voices indeed! Nay, yet again your self-ingrained filters have you mixing my own melodious tone with that of the Mrs. Dr. Halegingerafloat - her's being shrewish at best. 'Tis time, to release that skeleton as well.....
x

Re: Write a novel

Beverly on 10/10/00 at 16:37 (030191)

Dr Lewi,

Your literary gifts are outstanding. Have you considered a novel?
Who knows, the next 'Harry Potter' like sensation may be lurking in your computer, just waiting for you to write it.

I majored in journalism, and I can't write even half this well.

Beverly

Re: Is Nancy the SISTER or is it someone else?

Beverly on 10/11/00 at 20:15 (030328)

Huey,

You shocking thing, you! Your Sister?!? And I was just recovering from picturing you chasing Nancy in drag. Now, who is the sister? Is that Nancy or someone else? I'm getting confused (but entertained, mind you). Heuy, after all these years, your imagination has truely grown to grand porportions. Oh well, you're in good company.
According to trashy talk shows, a number of ordinary married men sneak into their wives wardrobes.
Don't tease us with this Sister stuff. Out with it!
Beverly

Re: The Ghosts of Podiatry Past

john a on 10/10/00 at 08:35 (030156)

At first I was merely jealous, as a child might be of a schoolchum receiving
all the lauds and accolades. But now, I can only genuflect in awe, bowing
humbly before your lyric mastery of shimmering prose - quaintly stilted,
winsomely antiquated, wit and imagination rife. Bravo, Sir Lewi! (of
course, I'm still jealous :-)

Re: The Ghosts of Podiatry Past

Nancy S. on 10/10/00 at 08:49 (030159)

Former husband Dr. Lewi:

Despite all, I am thankful that the plantar fascist did not cause you to expire.

I fear, however, that you shall indeed end up more the idiot man-child than you already are if you do not prepare further for Davy's bassoon treatment. Your frayed plantars still sound too intact to me.

My advice: Sit still for another twelve years, with your calf muscles screwed tightly into vises, with monthly breaks to try to lift eighty bassoons at once with your plantars unprotected by footwear, even pink slippers.

Your sister innuendo sounds straight of Dickens, and I'm trying to ignore it.

I'm trying to help you, Huey. Now cut out those imitation bacon bits, like I said before.

your only true, but disappointed, love,
Nancy Lewi S.

Re: The Ghosts of Podiatry Past

JudySL on 10/10/00 at 12:34 (030173)

Yet again the closet releases a skeleton......
Sister? True Love?

The voice you hear, dear senile ex-husband, IS that of a pre-historic bird! Do you not remember the cloning experiment carried on by you and your cohort, Dr. Halegingerafloat (in what is now Davy's sub-celler) which ended in tragedy as your 'experiment' flew away with your not-yet mentioned sixth son in it's craven beak? Is it any wonder that your 'procedure' to graft the hoof of an emu on to young John h's granddaddy's anklebone was a very sorry attempt at further genetic experimentation? (You may as well tell young Master John that he need no longer endure various diagnosis or treatment - he comes by his 'afflictions' through birth and no amount of medicine will fix that!)
Clearly you forget that I've had the true honor of sharing a sing and a stage with none other than the great Nightingale herself - and to the accolades of thousands! Voices indeed! Nay, yet again your self-ingrained filters have you mixing my own melodious tone with that of the Mrs. Dr. Halegingerafloat - her's being shrewish at best. 'Tis time, to release that skeleton as well.....
x

Re: Write a novel

Beverly on 10/10/00 at 16:37 (030191)

Dr Lewi,

Your literary gifts are outstanding. Have you considered a novel?
Who knows, the next 'Harry Potter' like sensation may be lurking in your computer, just waiting for you to write it.

I majored in journalism, and I can't write even half this well.

Beverly

Re: Is Nancy the SISTER or is it someone else?

Beverly on 10/11/00 at 20:15 (030328)

Huey,

You shocking thing, you! Your Sister?!? And I was just recovering from picturing you chasing Nancy in drag. Now, who is the sister? Is that Nancy or someone else? I'm getting confused (but entertained, mind you). Heuy, after all these years, your imagination has truely grown to grand porportions. Oh well, you're in good company.
According to trashy talk shows, a number of ordinary married men sneak into their wives wardrobes.
Don't tease us with this Sister stuff. Out with it!
Beverly