Yes. That's Bob. Yes, he's grabbing himself in an indecent way. We've made our way down to Florida, our consultation with the surgeon regarding his surgery takes place tomorrow. I was snapping this photo of a cicad to send the girls, when he jumped in front of the camera to create this momento for our journey. His hope is to stand normally without having to hold his intestines in very shortly. Meanwhile, our hotel room just off the Route 42 strip is the site of lots of off color jokes and black humor. Being indecent, bawdy, rude, and vulgar right now is how we're moving forward.

We were supposed to find a scrotal support prior to his surgery. We had no luck finding any in Schoharie County. Apparently the men there can hold there own??? So we ordered one off of Amazon (it had 17 5 star reviews. How could we go wrong?). But it didn't show up in time. Typical Amazon purchase. So here we are, on a strip. There's got to be a jock strap around somewhere, right? Contrary to what the picture suggests, Bob is a propriety-bound wasp, and he doesn't like to ask for assistance with such things. As you can imagine, I've got no such troubles. We didn't know where to look. So I walked into a store selling french cut bikinis. I figured if they were marketing thongs to women, they weren't going to be phased by a woman seeking other genitalia paraphenalia. They sent us across the street to CVS. While we were there, Bob took an interest in examining flip flops while I asked at the pharmacy counter. The twenty something looked at me like I was nuts and told me to try Costco. We headed over to Costco and observed that the entry is guarded. Apparently this is a store where you have to pay for the privilege of being a customer. Bob held his cool and walked past the guard like he owned the place. She didn't bother to ask him a membership card. But I looked guilty, so I got stopped. What was I to tell her? “Lady? I just need a jock strap. Can't you waive the rules?” I lied and told her we needed the pharmacy. That worked. So we get into Costco, and everything is in these giant boxes. “If we find them here,” I told him, “'We're going to have to buy a case of 36.” But we didn't find one. So we tried TJ Max, at the next strip development over. They had girdles for men, but no jock straps. Bob said, since it was a discount label store, they might be factory returns anyhow. So we gave up. But I will admit, it is the most fun I've had shopping in a long while. We're going into surgery un-sheathed? Un-armed? Un-dressed? Un-shod? Un-supported? Who knows. But forward we go…

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