He’s tackling the issue head on

I’m looking forward to the time when we can have in-person gatherings again.

Everything, these days, is handled by videoconferencing: business meetings, weddings, classes, even my last medical exam.

“Do you have a blood pressure device?” the doctor asked.

“I do,” I replied.

“OK,” he said. “Take your blood pressure and let me know what it says.”

So I followed his instruction and reported the result.

“Now let’s do the other arm,” he directed. I took exception to his use of the term “let’s.”

There was no “let’s.” There was just me. A test on the other arm registered an elevated number, but an accurate reflection of my increasing irritation.

“Now let me know what your heart rate is,” he ordered.

I asked him if it was OK to continue giving myself a checkup, knowing I had no medical degree.

Thankfully, my blood pressure returned to normal once I finally signed off, but shot up again when I got the bill.

Apparently, these virtual meetings aren’t going anywhere soon.

I used to get invitations to speak to various groups in person, but today, all my talks are on Zoom.

It means I get cheated out of a free dinner.

Still, there are advantages to offering my lectures from home. I save money on gas, there’s no concern about contagion, and I don’t have to wear pants.

My wife says that’s not appropriate, but I take the position that if I’m not getting dinner, they’re not getting pants.

That doesn’t mean I’m not going to deliver an excellent speech, striving each time to tailor my talks to my audience.

My address to, say, a youthful crowd, varies considerably from what I’d offer more mature viewers.

I might talk to youngsters about the infinite treasures that lie ahead, whereas, that group of seniors I recently addressed, heard everything they’d want to know about freezing corpses.

“It’s called cryonics,” I explained. I had their rapt attention because it’s a science that explores the prospect of eternal life.

San Diego native and baseball legend Ted Williams is frozen that way. So are countless others, all waiting for a time when medicine and technology advance to a point where resurrection is possible.

Typically, I explain, it’s not the entire body that’s frozen, but more often, just the head. I learned that from my intensive research on the subject since I’m considering just such a procedure myself. If there’s one thing holding me back, I explained, it’s the fact that there’s no room in our freezer.

“Something would have to go,” I said. It means my bride would be saddled with a torturing decision: Me or the turkey.

“If that bird wasn’t there,” I told them, “there would be plenty of head room.”

That’s basically the way I ended my talk, finally cautioning everyone not to consider what they call “cryopreservation,” without thorough investigation.

I personally plan to give it long and careful contemplation. I’ll be in a better position to make a decision after Thanksgiving.

Contact humor columnist

Irv Erdos at Irverdos@aol.com.

TED SANDE AP FILE Baseball legend Ted Williams’ frozen head and body are stored separately at an Arizona cryonics facility.