COLUMBUS _ The phone rang and I hurried into the office to answer it, heard that familiar, sonorous voice say hello.

``What are you doing next Wednesday?’’ he asked.

``Working,’’ I said.

``How ’bout dinner?’’

``Never know when I’ll be done on a work night,’’ I looked at the calendar.

``Next Wednesday’s the 18th,’’ I said. ``I’ve got county board at 7:30 that night.’’

Mild expletive.

``What’s the matter?’’ I said.

``I was thinking of getting married,’’ said Uncle Chet, ``but you’ve got to be there and Buddy’s got to be the ring bearer."

``Are you serious?"

``Serious.’’

``I can’t believe it.’’

``What? Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’’ he said.

``Sure it’s a good idea,’’ I said. ``It’s just that after five years or so, you begin to think people enjoy the status quo.’’

``We enjoy the status quo,’’ he said. ``But we were talking about the pros and cons of it, health care, homeownership, that kind of stuff. One thing led to another, and this is what we came up with.’’

``Now that’s romantic,’’ I said.

``We’re going to do it right here. Alice got the minister. Her friend from up north will be here, with her significant other, and you four on my side,’’ he said. ``All you have to do is bring your beautiful selves.’’

``I’ll ask for a personal day,’’ I said.

``You’d better. You have to meet with the minister, I think.’’

``When’s he, or she, going to be there?’’

``He. Either 2 to 3 or 5 to 6,’’ said Uncle Chet.

``What’s he doing from 3 to 5?’’

``I don’t know.’’’

``Why Wednesday?’’

``Because Thursday I’m going to New Hampshire to campaign for Gravel and universal, single-payer health care,’’ said Uncle Chet. ``With �Sicko’ in the theaters, this is a perfect time to reach people. All you have to do is show ’em the movie, then answer questions.’’

``Questions like `Isn’t this socialized medicine?’’’

``True," he said, ``to which I say, yes, this is socialized medicine, rather than the capitalized medicine we have now, where some money-grubbing bean counter, rather than your doctor, decides which operation you need. This is the same system Congress adopted for itself, where all the rich boys are covered and no one has to pay when they use it. This is the same socialized system we have in the Army, Navy and Marines, universal, single-payer coverage.

``Can you imagine if the Army had capitalized medicine, like the rest of us, and you got shot in the gut?’’ said Uncle Chet. ``They take you to the hospital, but that hospital’s not in the insurance plan. So they take you to another, but before they can stop the bleeding, you need pre-approval from your insurer or you’re going to have to pay for everything yourself.’’

``Goodbye, volunteer army,’’ I said.

``And isn’t a country like a big army, competing with the rest of world? And how are we supposed to compete when we’re not as healthy as the Dutch and the French and the Italians and the Canadians and people from about 30 other countries, where they don’t have capitalized medicine?’’

``You’re preaching to the choir.’’

``True. And did you hear that Americans are not the tallest people anymore, that we’re shrinking compared with the rest of the world?’’

``Hadn’t heard that, but it doesn’t surprise me.’’

``They say a nation’s average height is an indicator of childhood nutrition and health care,’’ he said.

``Well, I can see you’re ready for the campaign trail, but I don’t know about the wedding,’’ I said.

``I’m ready,’’ said Uncle Chet. ``Come over about noon and we’ll run through it with Buddy a couple of times.’’

``How do we dress?’’

``Casual, probably not jeans."

``What can we bring?’’

``Bring wine,’’ he said. ``We’ll have a few swigs before we get started.’’

___

Cooperstown News Bureau Reporter Tom Grace is traveling with his Uncle Chet, who he says is imaginary. Grace’s column appears twice monthly.