Fragments From Floyd

In my traditional Friday morning chat with my Maternal Unit, somehow the conversation took one of those quirky sideroads and we ended up discussing "warts we have known". Mom says she had them on her hands before I was born, but after birth, hers went away. I know where they went.

Mine were surgically excised and frozen off with liquid nitrogen in elementary school years.

If I'd had the choice, I think I might have preferred the more successful and way less traumatic means of Duct Tape Wart Removal instead. It worked 85% of the time, and within 28 days, the warts were gone... better than cryotherapy, and for the cost of a few inches of tape... and the stigma of having a silver patch on your forehead for a month. Around here, nobody would even notice.

Of course, you also could rub a new penny on your favorite wart; or rub an old rag on it and bury the rag during a full moon. In either case, they typically disappear more often than not after all manner of autosuggestive "treatments". There's an awfully lot we don't understand going on between the human psyche and the soma, and the late Dr. Lewis Thomas (in the Medusa and the Snail) declared we should declare a national War on Warts, and thereby come to understand the world better perhaps than by putting a man on the moon (my phraseology, not his).