For Wilshire Baptist Church
“Are you a retired doctor?”
“No.”
“Well, you look like a retired doctor.”
“Sorry, but I’m not.”
The question came from a man remodeling the vacant house next door. Work has been sporadic over the past two years, so I sometimes walk over when someone is working to get the latest forecast on completion. We’re eager to have good neighbors in that house.
The conversation this day was through an open window when I took a break from mowing. I can’t imagine what there was about me that made him think I was a doctor, and a retired one at that. I mean, seriously, I was mowing my own lawn. The closest I’ve come to being a doctor is when I worked in communications at DART and donned a doctor’s white coat for a photo shoot in the atrium at Medical City Hospital.
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