As some of the old timers tell it, Greg Conkling showed up here like a lost kitten sometime around 1986. He hung around until we got used to him and permitted him to stay.

At least, that’s the way I heard it. Maybe you heard differently.

Recently, I read somewhere that he plans to retire on New Year’s Eve.  For cryin’ out loud! Anyone who seems to put, oh, 60 or more hours into his business week after week, year after year, well, I can’t understand why he’d want to do something that crazy. Especially on the last day of the year.

Greg, perhaps over time you’ve stood too close to the penicillin. The mold affected your mind – it does that. You’re just not thinking straight.

Consider us for a moment. Don’t you realize that you are our placebo? I’ll repeat that, in case you didn’t hear it correctly: You are our placebo.

Walking into 126 N. Main St. is like diving into the famed Pool of Bethesda. Seeing you standing in the back of the store – eyes focused on your computer screen with one hand on the telephone – our blood pressure lowers, our breathing becomes normal. We are automatically on the road to recovery from whatever ails us.

We can’t even pronounce half the stuff you’ve shell out for us, but we’ll let you in on our little secret. We’ve known for years that it’s not what’s in the bottle that cures us. It’s hearing your calm voice say those magic words: “This will take care of it for you, Mr. (the reader’s name goes here).” Those words are golden.

And now you’re going to go and retire.

Well, you’ve been president of the Northwest Ohio Pharmaceutical Association, was previously named its Pharmacist of the Year, served six years on the board of directors of the Ohio Pharmacist Association, served on the board of the Bluffton Hospital, and held a term a president of the Bluffton Area Chamber of Commerce.

There’s probably an even longer list, but you’re such a modest guy you never told us about your other accomplishments.

Good luck, and thanks for all those Sunday afternoon emergency calls for a prescription pick up. We’d have gladly paid double for those – and you simply told us to stop in on Monday and take care of it then.

It’s guys like you who make this town such a great place to live. It’s small-town pharmacists like you who give those big pharmacy chains such a bad name.

We wouldn’t want it any other way.