Christmas is over with, thank goodness. No more seductive booze commercials, no more beautiful old songs butchered by howling gospel singers and no more stupid new movies about Santa. Time for a nice rest before I start on my taxes. Whoopee.
Rudy had a red nose, all right. But the Rudy in our town was no reindeer. He was a drunk, and when he didn’t have a snootful, he was real cranky.
My partner at the time was a Georgia EMSer named Mark Mayo. You may have read Mark’s name in this column more than once because he was plum brilliant. There were so many skills the rest of us had to learn by struggling, but Mark seemed to be born with them all