Giving Thanks For Uncle Nunzio

Everyone has something to be thankful for.

Not everyone has Uncle Nunzio . . .

Scene: A large hospital in the metropolitan area.
A harried looking woman, strangely like the caricature on this page, paces back and forth in front of a busy nurse’s stand, speaking too loudly on a cell phone:

“Hello, Uncle Nunzio! I’m so glad you called.

Yes, Yes, I know how concerned you are about my mother. She’s doing pretty well at the moment, but things – No, no! I didn’t mean that. You don’t have to come. It’s okay. Really! I’m here now. Everything’s under control.

Uncle Nunzio, listen to me. Please, They’re treating her great. Just the way you like. With respect. The nurses. The doctors. Everyone.

I’m sure.

Anyway, you’re so busy with the business and all, we couldn’t impose on you. It’s such an honor that you took the time to call. WHAT? You want to send Vinnie the Who? No, please, do not do that at this time. It’s not nessa— really. No, I’m sure that she wouldn’t fall or nobody would give her the wrong medicine or anything bad like that.

Yes, yes, I know what you’d do. But let’s not talk of such things now. I’m sure it will be fine, with everyone paying so much attention to her. Yes, we hope to get her home for Thanksgiving. With the family. Yes, that will mean a lot. To all of us.

Flowers would be nice. She likes pink. Talk to you tomorrow. Same time. And God bless you too, Uncle Nunzio. Ciao!”

The conversation you have just heard is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to actual persons living or (about to be) dead is purely coincidental.

 I don’t have an Uncle Nunzio, although I might or might not have access to one, you figure it out, and there have been many times in my life when I pretended I did . . .

Thanks to shows like The Sopranos, brilliant but disturbing, and The Jersey Shore, disgusting and beyond disturbing, people have gotten the idea that if your last name ends in a vowel, as you may have noticed mine does, you have, shall we say . . . connections.

And while my family, sometimes gentile to the point of near Waspishness, is offended by this notion, I am not above insinuating that there is a real Uncle Nunzio in my life when all else has failed — in difficult situations, like dealing with demanding clients, the Cable Guy, or . . . the staff of hospitals.

What can I say about our health care from hell that hasn’t been said before, so often by me?

So I’ll keep this short and sweet, and just give thanks on this wonderful holiday for Uncle Nunzio. Even if he is, in the immortal words of Fred The Lawyer, a Fignewton of my imagination.

Oh, and if you’re a regular reader, you might notice that this blog first appeared last Thanksgiving. Same as your meal last year.

I’m sure you don’t have a problem with that . . .

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Check out the original post, Thank God For Uncle Nunzio — interesting graphic.