He’s Not Heavy; He’s My Tomato Plant

I believe I've mentioned before that Geekdaddy works at a mental health institution. He has a very nice, sunny office in the basement where he keeps the phones and computers humming. He also has a small farm of tomato plants, flowers, and greenery that he tends with loving care. He's the go-to guy for Mainers who want a fresh cherry tomato in January, and you don't have to worry about salmonella either. Glasses cleaner, maybe, but no germs.

Geekdaddy subscribes to the theory that if one pair of glasses is good, two or three are better. This is why you sometimes see him with one pair on his nose, and another pair pushed up on his head and a third pair hanging around his neck. I don't believe I'm letting any cats out of bags here when I tell you that, sometimes, he even puts one pair over the other pair to read. This is all because of less than successful laser cataract surgery and a tiny little buckle inserted into his eye.

No, before you ask, there's no tiny little belt. Just the buckle. It holds the cornea or lens in place or something like that. I'm a bit hazy on the details, but I know that it makes seeing anything farther away than the end of his nose a less than optimal experience. Hence the glasses in triplicate.

The other day, there he was in his office, examining his favorite tomato plant and thinking that it looked a little peaked. That certain something was lacking in the luster of its leaves, and its flowers were drooping. The geek decided that what the tomato needed was a change of scene. Maybe, he thought, a walk out through the parking lot onto the lawn would perk it up. He could even leave it there for a while.

True, one of the clients who wander the grounds might trip over it or maybe try to roll up a few leaves and smoke them, but the odds were that it would be safe. So, off he went with the tomato plant held in front of him - did I mention that it's a large patio tomato plant? As he walked, he tried to cheer it up by talking to it, something that's a good idea or so he’d heard on one of his radio talk shows.

He was nattering away to it, describing the scenery they were passing when he realized that he wasn't alone. One of the psychiatrists who are so useful when Client A is hearing those voices in his head again and they start arguing with the voices in Client B's head, and one of the voices threatens to take it out to the parking lot, was walking beside him and peering at him through the tomato plant's foliage.

Geekdaddy is always cordial, so even though he'd never met the man before, he greeted him with a smile and walked on, out into the parking lot and onto the lawn where he gently settled the tomato plant in the dappled shade of one of the huge maples that dot the grounds. It was about then that he realized that the doctor had almost certainly mistaken him for a client, and then he also realized that he was over-endowed with three pairs of glasses - one each on his nose, on his head and on a cord around his neck.

When he got home, he mentioned the incident to me and asked me if I thought the doctor had gotten the wrong impression. I assured him that I was sure the doctor almost certainly hadn't gotten the wrong impression, and I think I eased his mind. What I'd really like to see, though, is what happens when he comes in and starts tweaking the doctor's phone or computer the next time one of them breaks down. I just hope he leaves the tomato plant in his office.