Roy Exum
After our second child was born, happy and healthy with 10 fingers and 10 toes, it was a pretty easy decision for me to get a vasectomy. Anne had been hospitalized with blood clots in her legs and it was obvious that we had been blessed with a son and a daughter. So color me “shocked” after state senator Todd Gardenhire likened the procedure to an abortion because, in my mind, nothing could be further from the truth. The difference is night and day, if not absolutely impossible to compare.
I like Senator Gardenhire very much, and have since we went to high school together with U.S.
Senator Bob Corker once long ago, but after Wednesday’s outburst where he claimed the vasectomy process was “more stringent” than an abortion, I hope he makes good on his pre-election promise that he plans to serve only one term in the state legislature.
I still disagree with Todd that Erlanger Hospital knowingly violated Sunshine Laws. I read the attorney general’s opinion and, while I concede some innocent mistakes were made, it was not lost on me that Erlanger was not named in the opinion. I looked board chairman Donnie Hutcherson straight in the eye and asked him point blank if there were improprieties and he told me, “absolutely not.” I still believe him.
Wednesday’s comment bordered on the ludicrous. A vasectomy is no more than a snip of scissors; an abortion is a life-changing event that can haunt people forever.
Todd’s experience with his surgical procedure was vastly different than mine. One Sunday morning I was helping take up the collection at the First Presbyterian Church when I casually mentioned to fabled urologist Smith Murray I needed to get it done. Dr. Murray said to be at his office the coming Wednesday at 4 o’clock.
I didn’t even sit down in the waiting room before the nurse called me back and told me to take off everything but my shoes and socks. So I am standing there very naked when she comes back, gets my loafers into the stirrups and starts prepping the site. “We are going to do this now?” I cried, “We aren’t going to talk or have prayer or look at anatomy drawings?”
She laughed as Dr. Murray walked in the room. I looked at him with my deer-in-the-headlights’ stare and asked him, “Why are my socks and shoes still on?” Smith had the classic answer, “I ain’t operating on your feet.” When he stitched me up 15 minutes later, I was still laughing.
I went home, iced up, and watched some movie from the couch. It was the easiest medical procedure I’ve ever had and I bet I referred 20 guys just like me to Dr. Murray before he retired. Looking back with 20-20 vision, if I had known Anne was going to raise our children so wonderfully and so fine I would have tried to make a dozen babies, but that didn’t happen.
Abortion is such a volatile subject I suspect we’ll argue and fret about it forever. Between Planned Parenthood and the Right to Life folks, I’ve thought some fistfights would break out. In Alabama right now the legislature is considering a “fetal heartbeat” bill that would make an abortion a crime if a fetal heartbeat can be detected. The idea, which is plausible to many, is that life ends when the heartbeats end; they contend life begins when the heartbeats begin.
I’m glad the Alabama legislature has to decide, not me. But the vasectomy procedure doesn’t even belong in the same sentence, much less that same legislative chamber. I suspect you could make it an ordeal if you wish but I’m as close to a gelding as you can find and it was as simple as keeping my shoes and socks on.
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My great buddy Lou Holtz, who is now 78, has still got it. I first met Lou when he was at N.C. State in the early 70s so isn’t it delightful to watch this tape of him speaking to the University of Texas football team last week? Texas is coached by Lou’s former defensive coordinator Charlie Strong (South Carolina, Notre Dame) As you watch Holtz tell the Longhorn football players how to win, apply his principles to your marriage, your job, your sales technique or whatever because you’ll “win” when you do. Click here to see the video.
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I just had a guy write to me that the pollen is so high the junkies are trying to convert their meth back into Sudafed!
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THE SUBURBANITES
GOD to ST. FRANCIS -- Frank … You know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, milkweeds and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.
ST. FRANCIS -- It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.
GOD -- Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?
ST. FRANCIS -- Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.
GOD -- The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.
ST. FRANCIS -- Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it -- sometimes twice a week.
GOD -- They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?
ST. FRANCIS -- Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.
GOD -- They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?
ST. FRANCIS -- No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.
GOD -- Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?
ST. FRANCIS -- Yes, Sir.
GOD -- These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.
ST. FRANCIS -- You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it, so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.
GOD -- What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life.
ST. FRANCIS -- You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.
GOD -- No!? What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose?
ST. FRANCIS -- After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.
GOD -- And where do they get this mulch?
ST. FRANCIS -- They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.
GOD -- Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?
ST. CATHERINE -- 'Dumb and Dumber', Lord. It's a story about.
GOD -- Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.
(from the Internet)
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