Have you ever heard people say how they are allergic to things they simply don't like? Maybe you suspected somebody of this excuse at some point. I find it amusing, especially because I have been guilty of this.

Its amazing how someone in mid-life can upgrade from being a picky eater to suddenly being "allergic" to something like tomatoes or _______ (fill in your most hated food here).

My absolute favorite is this one, "I'm allergic to bees". People I've known have popped this one on me like an arrow from nowhere. They will ignore the abundant flying killers when they're swarming about the bushes..but when we're in the backyard with some steaks on the grill and a lone bee comes too close they're out of their seat waving and swearing at it like the spawn of Satan.

More likely these people are allergic to courage. I've been stung three times in my life by bees, and each sting sucked just as bad as the next one. But I realize the futility of claiming allergies to justify cowardly behavior. People have claimed their doctor told them they'd go into a state of Anaphylactic shock. This is quite a statement, and most likely nonsense. I took the liberty of researching this phenomenon, as it seemed to be affecting people I know or knew (two relatives of mine, 1 friend and a handful of others). It rare and only 1000 deaths are caused each year because of it. Not a lot considering 2.5 million deaths occur each in the typical year. Its also difficult for doctors to detect ahead of time, most people discover it when they're dying of it.

So, I cast an honest gaze inside myself to see what shines out as truth in these situations. I found that I too have some allergies: guns, death, taxes, expensive restaurants (run, these entres start at $75!!), and many other serious "allergies" that no doctor could possibly diagnose.

This observation created a wave of scrutiny starting with my girlfriend; she's "allergic" to dishes and studying. My neighbors are "allergic" to soap and/or showering. My cat..other cats, strangely.

I conclude by confessing my own "allergy", it is onions. I hate the way they taste, period. Nobody that loves onions can seem to understand this. I have been known to use "the excuse" when I've stopped in for dinner at a friends'. It seems more humane to lie to my friend about being "allergic" to onions than to insult his wife's cooking.

Tags: allergies, courage

I've been working at a hotel for a while and many interesting things happen in a place like that. Sometimes you can hear people having sex (very loud sex), playing the guitar and singing like Steven Stills (but not sounding nearly as good) or chanting like monks in the mountains of Tibet.

Unfortunately worse things happen in places of transient residency: fights, drugs, stabbings...as I'm sure you can imagine. Since I've been there I've called the cops on a few occasions for different reasons, some of them violent in nature.

I went to pick up my paycheck a couple days ago and the boss was there. It was unusual to see him there on a Sunday morning because he never works on the weekend and the time of day was all wrong . He sees me coming towards the Front Desk, produces my check from the FedEx envelope and places it up on the counter. He looks quite distraught, and he isn't his normal cheerful self.

I pick the check up and tuck it into my back pocket and he begins to talk after a silent moment. He says, in his Spanish accent "Do you remember Miss Yates? She's been staying here off and on for a last few weeks." I nod my affirmation and he informs me she took her own life. I laughed inwardly at his way of expressing it, he said she "Committed a suicide". I thought to myself, "Yeah, you only get "a" chance to succeed at that operation.

He didn't care to mention any details and I didn't ask, but not for my lack of curiosity. Of course I wanted to know HOW she died. Self-inflicted gunshot wound to the cranium? Stab wound to the neck? Overdose of pills or heroin? Did she hang herself or did she slice a fat juicy artery while taking a bath? My thoughts quickly meandered to how she was found, and by whom? But after this long moment of morbid indulgence I switched mental gears a little. I thought about my own deceased relatives and friends. About how strange it is when somebody we have seen or know just simply drops out from existence.

You might be thinking that this has to do with my own issues about death and my perceptions of the afterlife. You could be right. Unless those issues are quieted by a strong sense of faith, or you don't care a bit about what happens after our death, you're likely to agree that we all ponder this from time to time.

It doesn't hit us nearly as hard when its somebody in the news, whether they are famous or completely unknown. But when its somebody we just SAW THE OTHER DAY, it screams out to us. They are an ex-person. The other day I just ran into her in the lobby and said "Hey, you dropped something". Or "Are you enjoying your stay so far Ms. Yates?" It doesn't matter if she smiles and thanks me or if she grimaces at having been distracted from her own thoughts. Wanna know why? Because they just died in room 208, and you come to find later that it was the guest in 108 that tipped the manager off to the problem due to "Reddish water leaking from the room above them".

Anyone care to join in the therapeutic exercise of "Death Therapy"? I believe it might help those of us that are scared to death of dying (no pun intended, well not totally true..its hilarious).

Remember, you don't have to be a cancer patient to be dying. It starts from the moment we're born and is as unavoidable as paying rent or mortgage. Unless of course you're a trust-fund baby..but even then you're gonna be as dead as the rest of us when that runs out.. Unless of course the trust-fund is so damn big that you can have all your internal organs replaced and can be reconstructed like the bionic man, but even then you'll be a crazy by the time you're 120 years old. And if you make it that far it won't be any fun. I mean can you imagine having to push a button just to get a hard on?!

Tags: philosophy, suicide