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Hey Gretel, I would just like to confirm that the boy, the young man, and the man wearing the jaunty hat are all Doctor Bills. I knew him only through this board but a picture is worth a thousand words and the three pictures that you chose for his website are him. Given ten thousand photos to rummage through I would have picked out those three, plus one more. Good show.  Milo
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Carpal Tunnel
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Of course, I would be thoroughly remiss (and I'm sure Dr. Bill would take me to task for it) if I didn't add a few of his more (ahem!  ) ribald (albeit always informative) classics: SUBJECT: Mycobacterium smegmatis Dear David: A girl in my class in med school was a good bit older than the rest of us, because she had had a tyrant mother who would not let her go until she (the mother) died. She had been a secretary, and so was very proficient at shorthand, which made her notes vastly superior to mine. But like many of the other students, she had the idea that if she let anybody see her notes, it might help them get above her in class standing. However, in bacteriology, she kept asking me to tell her what it was she was seeing in her microscope. So I would look, and then in her book find the place telling about it. Then she woulf run up to the prof and tell him what she had learned, just to make brownie points with him. He was a friend of my uncle, who just a year previously had been on the faculty. But she still wouldn't let me look at her notes, even though she sat right in front of me, and there was no chance of their coming to harm. When we did cultures of specimens from our own throats, we first touched cotton swabs to our tonsils and smeared them on nutrient gelatine media in Petri dishes, and put them into incubator for a couple days. When little colonies of germs appeared, we with platinum loop scooped up a colony, smeared it on microscope slide, fixed and stained it. When Annie had made her slide of organisms grown from her throat culture, as usual she asked me to come tell her what was on the slide.. Without any previous plan, something snapped, and I knew how to pay her back. I looked, and said admiringly;'Why,Annie, you have the Mycobacterium smegmatis in your throat culture!" As always, she trotted up to tell the prof about it.. I knew he had noticed what she was doing. He looked like Groucho Marx, and enjoyed imitating him. So, just as I knew he would, when she told him she had the Mycobacterium smegmatis in her throat culture, he tipped his head sidewise, flutted his bushy black eyebrows, and with a Groucho leer, asked her if she were inviting comment concerning her extra-curricular activities. His tone told her she had been had. She slunk back to her seat, and looke up the Mycobacterium smegmatis. Suddenly the back of her neck and ears got very red. That organism is ordinarily found only on the glans penis and the clitoris. Annie never bothered me again. So I was a rat, but I felt it would help her try harder to help herself. What's your verdict? Bill [please note: I'm pasting all of Bill's correspondence completely unedited, including any typos]
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Carpal Tunnel
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...and here's a real blusher:
Dear WO'N: When I was small enough to be bathed in the dishpan, and my mother was teaching me to retract my foreskin, she called my penis my "bottee". Only farily recently did it dawn on me that it was a diminutive from a word for "sausage".
Perhaps you have read that Louis XVI had severe problem from phimois (inability to retract foreskin) that at fist prevented his duty to produce an heir. He apparently had painful balanitis (pain in the glans,the marvelous acorn).
Good to have the board livening up a bit. Bill
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veteran
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BANNING DDT. KILLING AFRICAN CHILDREN
Dear Milo:
Here is a letter I just sent to my daughter.
It might amuse you. What is status of chigger control
now that DDT is banned?
_________________________________________________
Dear Wilma:
After finishing Basic Training, I was sent to
Lawson General Hospital, outside Atlanta,GA for a course
in laboratory technology.The afternoon that I arrived
I went up to the PX (post exchange,including sales of all
kinds of small things, including ice cream and candy.)
I was just finishing an ice cream cone, the a truck backed
up to the loading platform near me, and a little old driver got
out to unload some large boxes of merchandise for the PX.
Automatically, I started helping him because the cartons
were too large for one person to lift. When all of
the boxes were on the loading platform the driver took off
his hat, wiped his brow, and said:
"I thank you,son. But I can't pay you anything"
I protested that I didn't want
to be paid for a common courtesy, but he said,
"But I can give you some information that will be of value to you tomorrow. They'll take you on a 12 mile hike. Do you know what 'rayd
bugs is?" I said I did not. "Rayd (red) bugs are so tiny
you can only just barely see them. They burrow under the skin
and cause horrible itching. If you sit down in the shade
they'll get on you, and in a couple days you'll have terrible
itching. So, when they give you a rest break on the hike,
don't sit down in the shade. That's where the rayd bugs will
be. Sit only in a place where sun has been very hot".
Just as he had said, we were ordered to hike 12 miles.
At the mid point, we were halted and told to rest. I sat
down on the hot shoulder of the road. All the guys made fun
of me, so I didn't tell them why they would be sorry they
had sat down in the shadeof the scrawny pines.
But a couple days later, many of them were really miserable,
with itching ankles and waistlines, and were on sick call
to get medication.
To this day I don't know why the officers in charge were so
negligent that they did not warn the whole unit.
I had some friends of people my mother knew who lived
in Atlanta. Can't remember their names now. They had a beautiful
pine grove, but in spite of using a lot of DDT, they never
sat on the ground in it.
Now that DDT is banned, I wonder if the chiggers are bad now.
Love, Pa
__________________________________________________________
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> I retract my use of 'curmudgeon'
well, I was the first to use curmudgeon in this thread to describe Bill. please know that I used it with only the most heartfelt love in mind.
formerly known as etaoin...
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curmudgeon: a crusty irascible cantankerous old person full of stubborn ideas
yup, that was Dr. Bill.
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take out the word old, and i think most of us here qualify as curmudgeons!
I know I am full of stuborn ides, and i am certaining irascible- (cantankerous? well i don't think so.. but i am sure there are some who think so!)
and i know others here who have even a better fit, since unlike me, they persist in getting older.. (me, i am still 47, just as i was on the day i joined here. not a day older!)
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Carpal Tunnel
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I think I would modify the noun to an adjective. Dr. Bill was certainly curmudgeonly, but not quite a curmudgeon...in those moments when he was striving for that "badge of honor", that is. Curmudgeonly sounds more endearing to me... and that's the way I always thought of him.
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Pooh-Bah
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Alas, alas; I just received the sad news in a letter from Dr Bill's family. Thinking of him now brings a mixture of smiles and tears.
As jmh said, "We never had a cross word, he was always utterly charming and a tad flirtatious with me. Perhaps he was ever thus with the ladies?" I think so, Jo.
As much as our Dr Bill loved words, and jokes, and all the other stimuli of his intelligence, clearly the thing he held most dear was his family. I cannot tell you the number of time he lovingly recounted to me how he held his baby in his hand and washed the baby's bottom with running tap water. It was a precious memory to him.
I shall miss him.
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Just thought I’d stick my nose in here again to say how sorry I was to hear of Bill’s passing. Like most others here, we shared many fine and quirky moments over the years at AWAD and in emails. We often chatted about words flying around the margins of chat here on the board, with Bill’s inimitable point of view given blush-free rein – for example about ‘haptic’: Dear Mav: when I found this was medical word for
touching, I had a hunch there might be a word for
forbidden touching. After several wrong guesses,
I found it. 'Haptosis' = non-consensual sexual touching'.
Had some fun with Father Steve about that. "Reach out
and touch someone....
My vision is so bad I can
read only a couple short posts. Sob,sob! BillA typical quip was: Time wounds all heels.At one depressed point around July 05 he wrote: … What cannot be cured must
be endured. An enlightend govt. ought to send everybody
my age a small cylinder of carbon monoxide gas and
a large plastic bag. If I had one, I'd use it.
They also serve who only stand and wait. Bullshit. BillBut only a little later he was bouncing back and wrote: Dear Mav: the asshole who sent you that PM about
CO in plastic bag doesn't live here any more.
Met a beautiful bright babe here young enought to
be his daughter, and is having so many laughs
he hopes to live to be 100.BillPerhaps it may provide some small solace to those nearest to him who miss him most just now to know that in this brave new electronic world he was able to reach out and touch the lives of many friends around the world. We join with you now in raising a fond cheer to Dr Bill – rage, rage against the dyeing of the light.
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My Christmas card to him--mailed the day he died--came back today. SIGH...
I forgot to post that I owe him thanks for teaching me about the "Find on this page" feature of my computer; he saved me a good deal of time, by that.
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member
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I am very sorry to hear that Dr. Bill passed away. He was kind enough to correspond with me for quite some time. We sympathized with each others' unique situations. Dr. Bill shared some colorful stories about the war, his life and some racy jokes as well. And yes, he was a bit of a flirt. I loved 'talking' with him and really missed him when he wasn't able to use the computer anymore. Since folks are sharing their PM's I'll include one from him as well:
.......
Re: Ancient news story
From: wwh
Dear Dawn: I hope I didn't send this ancient yarn with
the Indian one. This was told on Boston radio back in
the fifties as an actal occurrence. I very much doubt
that.
Allegedly a man found his car battery was so low, he
could not start the motor. So he hailed a passing car,
and asked the lady driver to give him a push.
This was back in the days when cars with automatic shift
had to be pushed up to 30mph before ignition would begin.
So he asked her to give him a 30mph push.
She backed way up, and WHAM hit him at 30mph.
That's too dumb even for a dumb blonde joke. Incidentally,
I think the 'dumb blonde' joke is stupid. The only tiny
grain of plausibility in it is that pretty girls aren't
compelled to use their brains, and so may get by without
learning very much. But they are still able to make monkeys
out of some men who think they know it all.
Love, Bill
.........
Bill was never harsh with me, but always kind and empathetic. I miss him.
Regards,
Dawn aka gift horse
P.S. Thanks Jackie for letting me know about this thread.
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Below are some short posts from Bill to me that are eclectic in that they, to me, outline his very expansive human nature...if Bill's nature can be outlined.
*********************************************************
Dear Milo: Sweet are the uses of adversity. It can bring
out the best as well as the worst in people.
The prosperity we now have makes even gifted people
just lay back and relax. And the slobs take over. Bill
***********************************************************
Dear Milo: how about a NASA program to send rockets with
extremophiles to Venus, to modify the environment there
so that in a million years or so it would be fit for
human colonization.
*********************************************************
Dear Milo: but until a tribe has plenty to eat, nobody
has time to wonder about the stars.
************************************************************
Dear Milo: Even as official Court Jester like you can
expect no merriment to be experienced by members
for something everybody hates.
Speaking of Jesters, there is an ancient sad tale
of a King and his Jester who got lost in the woods.
Before they were found, the King got so hungry
he was at his Wit's end.
Hope I haven't told you that one already. Bill
****************************************************
Dear Milo: working my way through school, I worked nights
at a high priced mental hospital, the McLean Hospital
in Waverley, MA. I had a room up on the top floor of one
of the buildings where some of the kitchen and laundry
help had rooms. One of them, a Scotsman had come to this
country just after WWI, when somebody tried to get a
soccer league going.
He had been in the famous Black Watch
regiment, and was proud of having been one of those who
shot Sir Harry Lauder's son in the back for being an
abusive snob. He had become an alcoholic, and had horrible
nightmares. He also stammered very badly.
One day the guys took him to a baseball game at the old
Braves Field, not far from Boston University.
After the game the group got on a trolley, which at the
next stop had a large group of B.U. coeds get on. One
of the coeds stood in front of Scotty, and said in a voice
intended for all the car to hear:
"You'd think a gentleman
would know enough to get up and give a lady his seat."
Scotty glared from one end of the car to the other.
Everybody was looking him, which made his stammer worse.
"Fffffffive ffffffucking yars Ah sot in the trenches,
and no girrrrul asked for my seat!"
There was a roar of laughter, and his tormentor turned
very red, and hid among her classmates.
*****************************************************
Dear Milo: I very much regret that my vision has taken
away my ability to use a credit card, so I don't have
one any more. I'm very much embarrassed that I have
no way of contributing. I used to have her address,
but I couldn't read it if I knew where I kept it.
I'm a real blivet. ( a blivet used to be term for
200 pounds of shit it a 100 pound sack) I still
wonder about Wordwinds fifteen bluebirds in one house.
Way back in the winter. I never saw more than two
bluebirds at once. Now I can't tell the mockers from
the small black birds. Unless the mockers sing of
course. I mean just when they perch on phone wires
in back yard.
I had a bit of fun with Father Steve
a couple weeks ago. He posted about word 'haptic'
referring to robots with artificial 'feeling' of
obstacles. I had idea there might be a medical
or psychiatric word using the 'hapt- ' root
Six guesses and I hit paydirt:
'Haptosis' = non-consensual sexual touching.
Ever guilty of that, old buddy? Bill
**************************************************
Dear Milo: I just had a very nice PM from Theresa.
She's just fed up with the Internet in general.
At least I am relieved to know that no tragedy has befallen her,
as I feared.
Thanks for your kindness. I miss your posts also.
I say love to all the girls, and I know you won't
misconstrue it, when I say 'Love' to you too. Bill
************************************************************
Last edited by themilum; 01/01/2007 6:12 AM.
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Pooh-Bah
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I have been away for a bit and just heard. Bill was one of the first to welcome me to the board and was very protective (and occasionally over-protective :-) of the newbie learning her way around. He was also the first on-line person that I came to consider a friend, I wish I had been able to meet him in person.
Thank you for the pictures.
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Carpal Tunnel
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I sent copies of all the notes I received from Dr Bill directly to his granddaughter to adress in her post.
We had several discussions about posting private messages and - being an old fuddy duddy - I sent them instead of posting.
He was a gentleman of a different age with all the graces and prejudices of a time gone by - but always a gentleman.
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stranger
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I have made a stab at scratching the surface of organizing the thankfully impressive volume of stories that have been preserved from my grandfather/Dr. Bill. Many of you have read at least a few of them, I'm sure. If you visit the website, I have just uploaded my most recent edits. There is so much text to sift through, that formatting and sequencing will have to wait until another time. I've also mainly left his typos and such. I have not yet incorporated material from everyone who has sent some to me - so be patient if you don't see something yet. Please let me know if you have something that would aptly fit any one of the headings. There are some real gems there already. (link updated February 12/2007) www.doctorbill.info
Last edited by Gretel; 02/13/2007 4:07 AM.
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I found this site in 2004, daring to begin to post as DR. Bill was posting less frequently. I am honored to have been among those whose
private posts he read and answered, and the last, I think, echoed his
loneliness--he assured me that my use of the word 'lesion' to my physician's appointment secretary had been appropriate, and added
"Thanks for asking me." I'll try to know him better, even now, by watching for wwh in any archives I get into, and I'm sorry to learn that he's no longer with us.
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enthusiast
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The dear Doctor always treated me as an equal, at least, although his knowledge, wisdom and experience outstripped mine by far. We shared stories, although he never let on that his were far better. He always thanked me for any correspondence and even asked me to do a little research for him - but it was probably really to help me. He helped so very much, and I have missed him more.
Some time back, I was lamenting some silly squawking that was going on here, and this is how he soothed me. As always - with a given smile:
"Dear Owlbow:
Tolerance is something we all have to learn.
When I was small, a favorite game for our gang was 'fireman'.
There firealarm in the town consisted of
a bell on tower where firehoses were hung to dry, (to keep them
from being weakened by mildew, before nylong was invwented)
and a steam powered whistle on a shoefactory a quarter
of a mile due east of firestation, electrically synchronized.
We were due north of the fire station, and heard the
bell before we heard the whistle.
So in our game, we pushed our little carts and wagons
around yelling 'Dang Hoot! Dang Hoot'.
One day we got an invitation to play firemen on Sprague's Hill
a mile due east of firestation.(On a line from firestation
to shoe factory, to top of Sprague's Hill.
When we got there, those stupid kids didn't know what to
yell. They were all yelling 'Hoot Dang, Hoot Dang'. They
wouldn't listen when we tried to tell them they were
wrong.
Just as the fists were about to fly, we heard the
fire alarm, and were absolutely dumbfounded to hear it
go 'Hoot Dang. Hoot Dang'.
We suddenly realized that on Sprague's Hill, the
shoe factory was nearer than the firestation, so the
Hoot got there before the Dang.
It taught me not to be so quick to think the
other guy a damned fool. "
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old hand
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He will not be forgotten.
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I recall how we "met". It was a question about the reason the refrigerator is called a friDge. What a great start! Dr Bill's reply to my querie: "If there were no 'D', it'd be 'frig'...and we all know frigging produces heat!"
Can someone help me retrieve the messages I've received from Bill?I can only find the ones I'd sent him. Thanks. What a really neat friend he's been. I'll miss him.
>^--^<
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My tribute site for 'Dr. Bill' now has its own domain. The previous link is no longer active (I will see if I can figure out how to edit previous post). www.doctorbill.infoI have not added anything new recently - but have in recent weeks turned up some interesting new things to add when I get a chance. I'm sure he would have enjoyed having his own site...even if it reads like a place to get info on your doctor bill!
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Next Tuesday is the one year anniversary of Dr. Bill's death.
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Carpal Tunnel
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Mm--I came across some PM's yesterday that he'd sent me. I still miss him.
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enthusiast
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From the Dear Dr.
after wishing me a happy birthday a few years ago...
"Dear Owlbow: Glad the natal day was properly observed.
You reminded me of ancient 'Little Audrey' joke.
When Little Audrey heard of 'treehuggers' she laughed
and laughed and laughed. Because she knew that only
God can make a tree.
wwh"
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