Note to Self

Stop talking to strangers. Not for your own protection, but for theirs.

It's bad enough that you throw decorum to the winds, parading around in your wheelchair, bumming out able-bodied people wherever you go. No one needs to be reminded that good health is a matter of fate.

You never could keep your piehole shut, but when ALS began to affect your voice, one did entertain a small hope. Alas, your motormouth may prove too great a force even for this onerous foe.

An appeal to your sense of decency, then: Your speech is hard to follow even for those who see you often. You know that, despite your occasional attempts to pin the blame on them. Your own dogs ignore your "commands" whenever possible. So why, oh why, must you throw down the gauntlet at the feet of unwitting strangers?

It's true, they're often the ones who start it, asking innocent questions, naively ignorant of the sticky mire they're stepping into. You, however, know better. You could save the poor souls from agonizing awkwardness by simply shrugging or raising your palms in a gesture of helplessness. In a pinch you could even drool a bit (God knows you're capable); that would send them on their way.

But you never do, do you? So ingrained is the urge to gab that you just keep on doing it, seemingly oblivious to the pained expressions of your captive audience and the inappropriate responses that betray their confusion at just what the hell you're trying to say. It's a spectacle, and not the fun kind.

Have a heart, man, and give it a rest! You aren't nearly as witty and insightful as you think -- nor does it matter if no one can understand. Do the world a favor and save it for the blog.