Bob Wright
Hawkeye
Yesterday was my "wellness check up" so graciously granted to me by Medicare. For those of y'all not having reached the glorius age to receive Medicare, there is a multiple choice questionaire to determine your physical and mental state, which determines how well you can fend for yourself. Then, on the back, you are asked to draw a clock, then show hands for 8:20. Having drawn circles (grain silos and bins) the circle was no problem. Then I located each hour at ninety degree points, and filled in the remaining numerals. All of this I did in magnificent style.
The nurse admired my work, then commented many younger folks try to draw a digital clock. (Younger folks doing a wellness check?)
All of this leading up to my story: Years ago I had a young child visiting in my home. A girl, about four or five years old. She announced to me, "I can tell time."
"Really?" I responded, "what time is it?" She replied, "Its nine forty three." Now it was nearer to the Noon hour, I knew. But my stereo was tuned to FM 94.3.
Bob Wright
The nurse admired my work, then commented many younger folks try to draw a digital clock. (Younger folks doing a wellness check?)
All of this leading up to my story: Years ago I had a young child visiting in my home. A girl, about four or five years old. She announced to me, "I can tell time."
"Really?" I responded, "what time is it?" She replied, "Its nine forty three." Now it was nearer to the Noon hour, I knew. But my stereo was tuned to FM 94.3.
Bob Wright