By Tim Sanders

Last week I visited the Kirklin Clinic in Birmingham for an annual cardiac checkup. Usually my cardiologist is very prompt, and the waiting time is minimal. On this particular morning, however, no one was being called back to the examining room. There was some dissatisfaction with the long wait, and considerable conversation among the patients about whether or not there had been an emergency the doctor had to attend to–say an unfortunate incident involving an alligator and a water hazard, or a triple-bogey on the 9th hole, or another golfer being struck by lightning or something. As it turned out, there had indeed been an emergency, but not on the golf course, only in the hospital. The reason for all of the golf course speculation by the impatient patients was that there were a suspicious number of Golf Digest and Yachting magazines in the waiting room. Since there was no place to launch a yacht in the Birmingham area, the golf course seemed like the logical culprit.

But the point is, when there are those inevitable periods of interminable inactivity in doctors’ waiting rooms, just how can we best occupy our time without breaking furniture or endangering life and limb? Here is a poll I conducted among the patients in that waiting room last week:

Poll Question: "Do you prefer reading magazines, conversing with those seated near you, or simply quietly observing others in doctors’ waiting rooms?"

76% - YES

21% - NO

3% - IF YOU DON’T GET AWAY FROM ME, I’LL CRACK YOUR SKULL YOU WITH THIS CANE!!

As you can plainly see, there was something wrong with my polling technique. I can draw no conclusions from that poll, so the best I can do is describe the diversionary strategies I’ve used myself.

EAVESDROPPING ON CONVERSATIONS is seldom a good idea, but sometimes it’s unavoidable. The two gentlemen sitting directly behind my wife and me were discussing their gardens. More specifically, their sweet corn. One of them obviously had a hearing impairment:

NIBLET #1: This year I planted that Supersweet Jubilee, and I believe it woulda done good if it weren’t so dern dry.

NIBLET #2: AIN’T NOTHING BETTER ON A HOT DAY, ’SPECIALLY WITH A SLICE OF LEMON.

NIBLET #1: What’re you talkin’ ’bout, lemon?

NIBLET #2: WHAT D’YOU PUT IN YOUR SWEET TEA?

NIBLET #1: I said SUPERSWEET JUBILEE! It’s supposed to yield as good as Silver Queen!

NIBLET #2: YOU CAN’T TOP THAT SILVER QUEEN!

NIBLET #1: ’Most all our ears this year is either burnt up or missin' teeth.

NIBLET #2: SILVER QUEEN?

NIBLET #1: Supersweet Jubilee.

NIBLET #2: WHAT?

NIBLET #1: Jubilee. The "E" stands for ‘enhanced.’

NIBLET #2: YOU JUST CAN’T TOP SILVER QUEEN! ’COURSE THIS YEAR IT’S BEEN SO HOT ‘N’ DRY AIN’T NONE OF MINE DONE NO GOOD!

NIBLET #1: That Supersweet Jubilee yields as good as Silver Queen, only earlier. Some of ours tasseled out last week, what there was of it. It’s been so dry.

NIBLET #2: HOW HIGH YOU SAY?

NIBLET #1: I said dry.

NIBLET #2: LORDY YES, IT’S BEEN DRY!

NIBLET #1: Awful dry.

NIBLET #2: HIGH OR NOT, WE STILL GOT THEM JAPANESE BEETLES TO CONTEND WITH. AND WE’RE EAT UP WITH CORN SMUT!

NIBLET #1: You ort to try some Supersweet Jubilee.

NIBLET #2: THIS YEAR IT’S BEEN SO TURRIBLE DRY AN’ HOT. MY SILVER QUEEN’S EAT UP WITH SMUT!

(From here, the conversation shifted to the relative merits of Nomad versus Legacy broccoli, and both men explored the entire subject at great length. I knew that by the time they worked their way down the vegetable chain to collards and mustard greens, I’d have to be anesthetized. We moved to the other side of the waiting room, where people were dozing, peacefully. I thought perhaps we could find some magazines.)

READING MAGAZINES would be interesting, if there were only a wider variety available. Sadly, most doctors’ waiting rooms lean heavily on Yachting and Golf Digest, which are especially meaningful to doctors, but dull as old appendectomy scars to the rest of us who have no interest in how Nick Faldo’s game has improved since he adjusted his grip, and no chance of ever even getting aboard a yacht, let alone owning one. The third major category of waiting room reading material is the woman’s magazine–which includes Better Homes and Gardens, Redbook, and Southern Living. HOO-BOY! Waiting rooms need more men’s magazines, like Cycle World and Field and Stream. And they could scatter a few Victoria’s Secret catalogs around for the ladies. We men could live with that. Of course it’ll never happen; it’s been my experience that only your barber has enough sense to stock decent magazines.

Unlike listening to oppressively dull conversations, or reading really, really boring magazines, you might want to try WATCHING OTHER PEOPLE in the waiting room, and guessing their names before they’re called. Last week there was a patient sitting across from us who looked a lot like Mr. Rogers, only somewhat livelier. I’d whispered to Marilyn that he looked like a Cecil to me, and she told me to hush. When the nurse called "Joel Lane," he got up. As soon as he was out of earshot, I leaned toward Marilyn and ever so quietly sang, "Joel Lane, Joel Lane, Joel Lane, Joel Lane, please don’t take him even though you can." I was discreet about it, but I guess my Dolly Parton left something to be desired. Marilyn whispered that people were staring at us, and gave me an unnecessarily sharp elbow in the ribs. From then on I kept my thoughts to myself, and left her to provide her own waiting room entertainment.

I have an appointment in early August with another doctor in Birmingham. I believe I’ll carry my squirt gun with me. If some corn borers in the waiting room start complaining about what this dry heat has done to their Silver Queen or Supersweet Jubilee, I'll be ready for them.