LEFT. LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT

So I was in the shower the other night and I had a recurring thought. What if something, God forbid, happened to me and I could no longer use my right hand? Therefore, how would I bathe myself, comb my hair or brush my teeth? Not to mention how I'd ever put on a bra. Therefore, I was thinking that the Medical Community should promote LEFT RIGHT DAY. Maybe once a month, let's say. That way, everyone, on that specified day, would try practicing all their grooming, dialing phones, whatever, using their opposite hand! Now wait... it's not altogether a bad idea when you really think about it. After lots of practice, I'll bet we'll become WAY more adept in living were we to ever to lose use of our predominant hand.

Besides, look at how much we'll save the insurance companies, once they realize we won't need visiting nurses as often. And, imagine how thrilled our kids will be, knowing they won't have to come over as much to reluctantly take over a lot of the chores we'll have listed for them. (this alone, should make our kids glow) Actually, now that I think about it, once we give the bank our new scribbled signatures, forging scammed checks from senior citizens will almost become impossible. What a deal!

I seem to do a lot of thinking when I'm the shower. Some sing. I develop ideas. Like the one I've often touted to friends whereby I'd like send a script to Woody Allen. I decided he could make a hilarious movie out of the idea that: there's a dying old man in his sick bed. Enter: family members. In order to appease all of the old guy's disappointments, the family members come over to his bed and one by one, they whisper in his ear how they (fictitiously) tell him not to worry. Everyone will be fine once he's gone. The drab, boring, single daughter tells the man how she has found the love of her life and is soon to be married to a wonderful Wall Street banker. The doofy, lazy son tells him how he's been accepted to the Wharton School of Finance, committed to earning a prestigious degree. Even the fat, introverted daughter of Cousin Mabel tells the ole codger Guess what? She's had been approached by a high fashion modeling agency who wants to offer a gastro by-pass, lose over 100lbs., document her metamorphosis, after which they'll put her on a Parisian runway! The scenarios can go on and on. THEN... LO AND BEHOLD... good news... the dying old man makes a MIRACULOUS recovery! He won't die after all!! Uh... that's the good news for Gramps. It's WAY bad news for the family since they now have to actually ACCOMPLISH all they said they would. How all that comes about, could be the makings of a simply rip roaring funny movie. Which is why I need Woody Allen to direct this. I'd die myself, were my incredibly funny movie fall into the hands of some loser movie producer who screws up the whole thing.

Apparently taking a shower brings out the best of my creative ideas. They also bring out my many fears of possible medical mishaps. Oh well.

P.S./WARNING: If ever I find out that my ideas come to fruition in any way whereby I am not reimbursed/credited as sole creator, you WILL be prosecuted. And, hopefully fined.