Six months ago everything was different. I was doing whatever, nothing much that I can remember. I could look back in my archives, but I haven't got time. All I remember, though, is that whatever it was, it wasn't much. I got up, I did my daily stuff, and that was it. Like take a dead mouse out of the mousetrap and fling it into the road. It was a very light schedule.
Six months ago, like other healthy men my age, I had my last doctor's appointment. I went in, and the doctor checked me out, inside and out, and I went home. He always exchanges pleasantries with me, like, "How have you been?", etc. And of course he always asks about Grandma and how much exercise I'm getting, oh, and my diet. He's very big on people's diet. He doesn't think you should eat a lot of things. Which was kind of strange when, a year ago now, I ran into him in the park at the July 4 celebration and I had a big greasy pork burger in my hand and he didn't say a word about it.
So it's been six months. And in that time my whole world has changed. I went from a die hard anti-industrialist without a friend in the world (in that realm) to the philosophical father of the entire Residential Industrial Movement! Pretty big ascent, if I do say so myself!
Six months ago, yards were laying pretty much fallow. Every man was more concerned with whether his sidewalk was edged properly or his bird bath was 100% level. Trivial, unfulfilling stuff. Now it's all different. Gone are the bird baths, and the only edging anyone's concerned about is whether his factory stretches to the utmost edge of his property. Because we're not wasting a square inch of land now. We're putting it to use, with each yard now being used for factories, warehouses, out buildings, etc. The only green space we're wasting is for our image, the presentation we make with signage, a few ferns, and an occasional fountain, to let people know we're respectable businessmen.
So ... today I get to visit the doctor again. And I'm expecting something a little different now. Because now he and I are probably a little closer to the same tax bracket, maybe he'll want to be friends. Maybe there won't be so many pointless questions about my diet and health and, instead, a little camaraderie, brother to brother stuff. Money talks! And now I could afford one of those nice homes out at the west part of town with the big yard, if only everything was like it used to be. I'd probably need more money now, now that you have to buy an entire factory too. But, no matter. I have the bucks and the social standing.
Then again, maybe the doctor will have other things on his mind. Since I know a lot of the top residential industrialists, maybe he'll be looking for some deals on goods. If he pulls in good and close and speaks in hushed tones, I'll know. Trickster, psychological stuff. "I hear there's a guy in your neighborhood who's putting out some good wheels for ambulance gurneys," he might say. "How much could a guy get a set of those for?" Or a hundred sets! Or how about a good set of scalpels? If you know who makes them -- as I do -- you can get them dirt cheap.
As far as regular old doctoring goes, I already know I'm in good health. I know it and he knows it. So why I need these constant appointments, every six months, there's no reason. He's got something else up his sleeve. It's obvious, now that I'm somebody.
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