One Pharmacist’s View

My Mom’s stepfather was a nice old guy and I loved him very much. But he talked a lot, chewed tobacco, and told some of the same stories over and over. His greatest pleasure come summertime was going to Cortez, Colorado for the summer months to visit my Uncle John and Aunt Lula out on their red bean farm out on the wild prairies near Cortez. He said the air was dry out there and “I don’t smother” so bad out there. So, he would pack up his deadly nightshade (digitoxin) and his little bottle of nitroglycerin, catch a bus in Stonewall and head out. But Grandpa was old, and he was forgetful.