Herb Benham

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Herb Benham: Going toe to toe with nail fungus

| Thursday, Aug 06 2009 03:11 PM

Last Updated Thursday, Aug 06 2009 03:13 PM

 

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When my dad tells the story, it sounds heroic because it involves World War II, the South Seas and maybe hand-to-hand combat with the enemy.

That's how he explains the origin of his toenail fungus. The rest of us just woke up one day, looked down and realized our milky white toenails had curdled. My wife noticed it first and suggested I never go barefoot in public again.

"You really should buy closed-toe sandals," she said, and then mentioned a stylish friend who had at least three pairs.

Not wanting to disgust the woman to whom I am married, I bought a pair of Keen's. The first time I wore them I thought my feet were going to catch fire. What's worse, hot feet or yellow toe?

This is relevant because a neighbor of mine came down with the fungus (23 million Americans share our plight) and his wife suggested he paint his toenails. He's a farmer and I've never known a farmer who thought painting his toenails would bring the corn in quicker.

Another friend used Lamisil (liver damage is a slight risk) and for a couple of years had toenails that were so pretty he could have entered them in the Kern County Fair. Then he stopped taking the medicine and his toenails became haunted again with the yellow ghost.

He tried the Vicks VapoRub program, applying the pungent salve twice a day for a year. In the meantime, he fell in love and his winsome new companion wasn't wild about clinking champagne glasses and then getting a big whiff of VapoRub from said friend's feet.

"It looks like I will live out my life with closed sandals," he said somberly.

Laser surgery is showing promise, but insurance has been slow to cover it. For $1,200, you can buy enough toenail polish to paint the town purple.

***

An e-mail from Marcia Giumarra about the column on using an iPod.

"Only listen when you are totally alone. I received an iPod from my children, for Mother's Day. My son told me it might be 'a bit much' for me; (I think he was afraid of the potential in-service he would be doing). Since that time, the iPod has become my friend, my solace, my confidant.

"This is the dirty little secret; I carry a tune about as well as my dog carries a basketball. When I am plugged into my iPod, volume topped, I pretend I can sing. I harmonize with Elvis, Ray Charles, those beautiful men of Il Divo, Rod Stewart, Norah Jones. I can't hear my grating, tuneless voice, nor can others. It is freeing; so different from Karaoke when you can see the embarrassment written on the faces of your audience.

"This last Saturday, home alone, I was doing house drudgeries, but loving it because I was singing. Do you remember Gary Puckett and the Union Gap? The lyrics to "Young Girl," are hysterical. I laughed myself silly.

"One more thing. You can dance while you sing too. I live in fear that with the volume up high, I will not hear my husband come in, or even worse, my mortified children. I would hate to be caught."

***

Received a note from Steve Ashby who works at Reimer's Wholesale Nursery in the northwest. His uncle, Howard Krauter, died a couple of days ago. He was 83.

Krauter spent his entire life in the nursery business. He was the son of Carl Krauter who introduced a tree variety. You see the purple plum everywhere -- they are almost impossible to kill. Howard had more than 20 varieties of lantana at his house near BC. He was upbeat and had a good sense of humor.

He loved his garden.

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