Last night I took the plunge and amended the subtitle of this web site to "Star Wars & More for men old enough to know better". I've been musing about this for some time now. The last thing I want to do is to abandon or alienate my existing, Star-Wars-fan audience. But in my experience, if you're of a certain age and a fan of Star Wars, there's a good chance you and I have other interests in common, too. I'll still be blogging about Star Wars, but I am now giving myself permission to branch out from time to time.
Just in time for this subtle shift in my blog's focus, Dave Banks (the man who kindly reviewed A Long Time Ago for the GeekDad blog) has posted a hilarious, cringe-inducing piece of middle-aged-man trauma on Medium. From Dave's piece:
My wife and I had been trying to have kids for a while, but with no success. Due to her family history, the doctors were pretty sure the problem was in my wife’s girl parts, but they wanted to rule me out, which involved visiting the lab to give a sperm sample. I wouldn’t say I was dreading the visit to the lab, but I certainly wasn’t looking forward to it.
I went inside and looked at the building directory for Idiot Laboratories (quite obviously, some names have been changed). There were 4 listings for Idiot Labs – on the 1st, 2nd, 4th and 8th floors. I figured I’d start on the 1st floor. I found the Idiot suite, but no one was there. Back to the stairs and up a flight to the second floor. I walked in and showed my paperwork to the receptionist.
Perhaps I’m better at reading forms than someone who sees them everyday, but it seemed pretty obvious to me what the paperwork was asking for, at the top of the word-heavy sheet, it stated:
Patient: David Banks
Test: Sperm Sample, Count/Motility
It’s not that tough is it? Well for this young lady it was. She studied the form very intensely, but was unable to decipher what I was there for. She called to her colleague a couple desks over.
“I can’t figure out what he’s here for.”
“Just a second,” said the colleague.
Twenty seconds pass. I explain to the receptionist that San Diego Fertility Center has sent me here to provide a sperm sample. She doesn’t hear me or doesn’t believe me.
Her colleague finally makes her way over, takes one look at the form and says “Here it is – he’s here to give a sperm sample.”
(It’s OK. Just pretend like I’m not here.)
Follow the link to read the entire piece in all its indelicate glory. Spoiler: it's about a SPERM SAMPLE.