A little earlier today, I contacted Mass. General Hospital to check on the status of Secretary of State Kerry because of his bicycle accident.
I had to pull some strings to get inside, but I managed to reach his doctor, Dr. Handleman Keurner, chief of orthopedics.
"Thank you for meeting mit me," I said to the man in white.
"No problemo," he said.
"Is that his xray?" I asked looking at an xray he had taped to his chest.
"Yar," it is. "Everyone wants to see the krack in hiz bone, so I have it ready. Zee the circle in yellow?"
"Yes," I said, bending over to survey the x-ray," I zee it." Then I turned to my notebook made a few notes, and looked up some questions I had made in advance. "That kind of crack looks like he was doing lazy 8's when he was biking."
"Nix," Dr. Keurner became red with anger and assured me, "He hit a curb while biking in the Alps near Scionzier, France. Dat's it. He's accident prone. He got two black eyes and broke his nose playing hockey with his family. He's no jock."
I decided to move on. "Do you think this incident will detract from the French Open?"
"Nix," Dr. Keurner said. "The French love their tennis, and this is just one more bike accident involving a politician."
"Dr. Keurner," I asked, "Do you think this is going to effect the Kerry-Zarif Iranian Nuclear talks?"
"Nix," the good doctor said. "Perry was such a drag and a stickler for numbering. All the pages of any document had to be numbered and in order. He'd get hysterical if they were out of order. He spent half the day shuffling pages."
"Has he heard from the Iranians."
"Ya," he said, "and they sent 3 cases of Ketchup. Also a small container of enriched plutonium."