I’ve been doing some therapy on my right hand to get it back to normal by practicing writing. I try to write out the Lord’s Prayer but the best I can get is a set of scribbles on a paper. I sent an image to a group of friends, to see if they could read it. Only one of them replied. He asked, “Is that the Lord’s Prayer?” He’s a pharmacist.
It reminded me of another friend named
Mike. In high school, his interest was in ancient civilizations. He loved hieroglyphics and could decipher Egyptian and Mayan drawings. He couldn’t get a date to save his life, but if
Nefertiti ever came back, he had it made. All of us nerds hung out together. Sort of a self-preservation tactic to protect us from the marauding jocks.
Fast-forward about twenty years. I’m skiing in
Sun Valley with some friends and happen to bump into Mike and his wife,
Cindy, on a chairlift. He moved to Seattle and became a pharmacist. I asked him whatever happened to his interest in ancient civilizations. He told me that there wasn’t any money in it, so he went to pharmacy school.
I asked him if he kept his interest as a hobby. Cindy laughed and told him to tell me about
Belize. So he did.
A few years earlier, he and Cindy were vacationing in Central America when they signed up for an excursion to visit the ruins at
Altun Ha. Cindy corrected him, that he signed them both up. She wanted to go shopping but went to Altun Ha to keep him out of trouble.
He said, “I don’t get into trouble.”
She replied, “Then why are we telling this story?”
Mike just grunted and continued. At the ruins site, he came upon a wall with Mayan hieroglyphs. He started to read them aloud to Cindy, as a way to show off. He didn’t realize it, but there was another tourist couple who were listening and were amazed at his skill. The man asked, “How can you read that?”
Mike replied, “It’s easy. I’m a pharmacist.” The man wasn’t amused; it turned out that he was a doctor. But the doctor’s wife was laughing hysterically.