Susan's Scribblings the Blog

Monthly Archives: February 2022

• New Faces

  Posted at 5:26 pm by kayewer, on February 26, 2022

  

  We are starting to re-enter a world we haven’t seen in almost two years, and it’s going to be scary for a while before we feel comfortable with it again. I’m talking about what will happen when people can see our mouths and noses after hiding them like bandits for 23 months.

  The signs are coming down from businesses, and schools are starting to debate the issue of when to uncover. Soon we will be freely breathing air without the protection of woven material to catch possible contaminants.

  I don’t know what will happen to the rebels who sat on their high horses and refused to cover up all this time. I suppose they will simply blend in with the rest of the bare-faced sea of humanity and never spout their disagreeable rhetoric again.

  Or they may take up another cause instead.

  The problem with uncovering is that most of us have not had to do anything with our faces for nearly two years. In fact, some of us haven’t had anything to do at all for two years. It shows not just on our faces, but in our sudden increased girth.

  I know I’ve gained pounds since I had to pack up my work stuff and set it up at home two Marches ago. Luckily my clothes held out for most of the journey, and I think that a few pounds off will put me back into them again. That and my newfound love for those wonderful control garments that will mold any flab on my ab and pinch up my paunch. God bless Sara Blakely.

  As for facial improvements, some people took the time to see the nip and tuck surgeons, so they may not look quite the same when gatherings commence. Others, like me, will debate how to draw on features again after hiding them for months. Makeup counters will be busy once more, and the point of sale machines will be smoking with all the smoky eye purchases to come.

  All this time I have been attending Zoom meetings, and am well-versed in how to stop video and unmute myself on cue. I tailored the background behind me so I won’t be the fourth person in the meeting room using the sun porch filter with the lovely window looking out at sunlight joy. I also put on makeup.

  Now I guess I’ll have to put on a more public face when I shop. No more orifice incognito.

  Look out, world. The faces are coming back.

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• Week That Was Weirdly

  Posted at 4:50 pm by kayewer, on February 19, 2022

  

  I had lobster for lunch this week. That revelation brought some interesting reactions before now, and I didn’t have a chance to really explain it, so now is the perfect time to do so.

  The reason I found myself having lobster for lunch was that, on my way home from a (now rare) visit to the office, I turned onto a favorite route and saw that Cousin’s Maine Lobster had parked their food truck at the intersection, in the parking lot of a strip mall bordered by a Kohl’s and a supermarket, and I realized I would not be likely to have the opportunity to try their products again if I didn’t grab it. It was just after noontime, and only two people were in the queue, so I stopped.

  Cousin’s was an early success story on ABC’s Shark Tank, when owners Sabin Lomac and Jim Szelikis pitched their then one-truck Los Angeles-based business, hoping to receive a $55,000 investment for a five percent stake, and got a deal with real estate boss lady Barbara Corcoran, who jacked up her cut to fifteen percent at the end. The business has grown to nearly five-fold and covers nineteen states.

  While reviewing the selections on the side of the truck, I realized I was dabbling in hoity-toity territory: my bill came out to $40 after leaving a tip! That was a mighty expensive lunch.

  It was worth every penny. And yes, there were leftovers.

  I indulged in the lobster sandwich with cheese, an order of lobster topping potato tots, and a whoopee pie. The calories were staggering, but it was a one-time deal. I was stuffed and didn’t bother with dinner then, but the rest of the tots went with the following night’s meal.

  The rest of the week after that was odd, in that I took piggy-back half days off for doctor appointments: in the PM and the next day in the AM, and in the time remaining to me, I made some shopping stops–in broad daylight on a weekday!–and ran errands like having a new window shade cut.

  Changing the routine can be enlightening and slightly nerve wracking when you’re not used to it. Add a rare temperature spike into the 60-degree range (in February), and nothing seemed right about four of the five days. Add to that a bunch of Zoom meetings, freak storms, part of my block closing for pothole repair (the gas and electric company did that one, and another big honking tire eater, which was not theirs, remains for the municipal crew to fill in), and a mad scramble to figure out how to order a new collectible from a group I recently joined, and it will be nice to return to something like normal next week.

  If such a thing is possible.

  At least I’m back to the usual cheap lunches.

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• To Have Loved and Lost

  Posted at 4:38 pm by kayewer, on February 12, 2022

  

  The biggest test of relationships seems to come around Valentine’s Day.

  Correction: the biggest test of sanity for anybody seems to come around Valentine’s Day.

  The holiday to celebrate love is becoming–if it hasn’t already–a symbol of blatant commercialism eclipsed only by Christmas. A demographic pulled for 2017 indicated that the average expenditure for the day is $136 per person. My recent excursion to the supermarket proved that’s gone up a bit more; I wove through endless displays of confections such as a half dozen dipped strawberries at $16 (champagne not included), bundles of roses and little orchids with big price tags. Along with the guacamole and hot wings for the Big Game tomorrow, the madness was intimidating, except that I wasn’t there for any of it. I bought my dinners for the week, some milk and bread, and shook my head at the continued disappointment at the cookie aisle, which has been devoid of my favorites for three weeks now.

  People fall into a spectrum of those who have somebody to love, and those who do not. Some do currently, and some don’t currently. Some have been wrung out to dry multiple times, and they’re more hardened to it, while others have never known that exquisite moment of true love and are miserable. It’s what makes the day polarizing for people.

  I remember, when I worked in the city many years ago, on Valentine’s Day some of the business-suited men were carrying large white boxes of roses or a gazillion balloons through the streets, on the buses and trains, while others were slogging through the day empty-handed.

  Those folks who are single, widowed or divorced watch and ruminate. Those folks who are married, engaged or dating take note of what’s going home to somebody else, in anticipation of what is to come when they’re home at last.

  Unfortunately the day doesn’t end well for everybody, with fighting, broken hearts, murders and suicides on the rise around such socially requisite holidays each year, it’s worth thinking about why we go to such lengths to divide the population in that way. The businesses making these expensive presents get richer, while psychologically the rest of us sometimes get poorer. The only thing missing is a tree. There is a network on cable that does nothing but romantic movies all year, so they don’t even have to label them for Valentine’s Day: it’s 24/7/365 for them already.

  And don’t forget the tradition of giving little cards out in school, where some decorated inboxes are chronically emptier than others and the snubs serve as the first lesson in where a little child may rank on that spectrum when it comes to their worthiness for affection. It shouldn’t be that way.

  After all, everybody doesn’t observe Christmas, but everybody deserves love.

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• The Purgatory Window

  Posted at 8:39 pm by kayewer, on February 9, 2022

  

  Fast food drive-throughs can be an experience in frustration. I went to my favorite popular chain for dinner today. Last week there was no line at the drive-through, but this week, same time of day, everybody wanted to eat there. The queue of waiting cars was at least ten deep.

  That’s okay: it’s food and I’m not a dude (in other words, I can wait in line and not fume about it).

  This establishment has a two-lane drive-up system in which you can take the left or right fork to shorten the line, pull up to one of the squawk boxes to place your order, and magically they manage to handle the chaos well.

  While waiting to choose your fork, the polite thing to do is wait in the single line until you approach the spot, but a car that came in from the main road acted as if they planned to go around to the other side of the restaurant, but instead cut in line and entered the right fork. I ended up behind them, so you know it didn’t make their wait any faster.

  Once the orders are placed, cars merge into a single line again to pay and pick up their orders, and this is where it gets interesting. Many fast food places have two windows: pay and pick-up. But this one has a third option: if your order takes longer to handle, you may be asked to pull ahead to a spot which will enable those behind you to leave with their faster prepared food.

  Today, I got sent to what I call the purgatory window. It’s the no zone spot of delayed fulfilment.

  While waiting at various locations’ purgatory windows, I’ve noticed what an empty experience it is. While the pay and pick-up windows let you see the bustle of employee activity or signage, hear the beeps of soda and ice cream machines and sounds from their computer terminals, the purgatory window is devoid of any sensory joy. Often the view inside is of the building’s switch boxes, an emergency exit door, or piled boxes of stock which had no place to go elsewhere.

  I don’t know why my adding lettuce to a burger consigns me to the purgatory window, but I’m glad they pay extra attention to get my food right. What might make the wait better is some type of bonus, like a different message board or a sign. Waiting for food is tough at any restaurant, so pick-up could use the extra boost to keep it relevant.

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• Roaring (Back) 20

  Posted at 5:03 pm by kayewer, on February 5, 2022

  

  Writer Chuck Klosterman is releasing a book, “The Nineties,” about the decade that has come to define life before the Internet, cell phones and international upheaval changed our way of existence. The book is scheduled to be available on February 8. Klosterman takes a look at what has happened to our culture and everyday life since the turn of the century, and from previews it sounds like he nailed it.

  We still had landlines back in 1990, and when the phone rang, you picked it up because caller ID was not common. We had grunge music, and an era of music fans answered to the call of Kurt Cobain and the Nevermind album to “entertain us.” Seinfeld was the television show to watch. Thelma and Louise was a popular movie. The Mall of America became the largest retail mecca in the country. East and West Germany came together after the Berlin Wall came down two months before the decade began. We were introduced to Harry Potter. Scientists cloned a sheep.

  On the downside, we lost Queen leader Freddie Mercury, and music died a little again. OJ Simpson became the center of a homicide controversy. Prince Charles and Princess Diana divorced. Students at Columbine High School were victimized in a mass shooting. The World Trade Center was bombed for the first time. President Bill Clinton became another subject of scrutiny. Rodney King was beaten by police officers, and a tape of the assault shocked the nation.

  The decade didn’t bring us the same groundbreaking firsts as the past 21 years, but those that did mattered. Cell phones came into bigger use by the end of the decade, and computers became a must in our homes (and soon, portability became a demand as well). The tragedies of that period helped us build better protections for today. Klosterman’s look back is just a glimpse at a time that now seems long behind us. Let’s hope he will be around to write about these last 20 years, sometime in the future.

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