The Tesla Shopping Cart

It had to happen. All our paper products were disappearing before our eyes. It was time to cross state line into Delaware and trek to BJ's. Thank goodness we only go there about every six months. 

Paper towels, toilet paper, napkins, tissues, diapers and wipes for our granddaughter, and everything else. When it was all said and done, and we spent $364, and we were in the parking lot, it was time to load all our stuff into the car. All the big packages were put where they belonged and I started loading the fluff: peanut butter and jelly, tuna and sardines (yuck!), tomato products, and a host of delicious goodies.

I was down to the last few things and I found the perfect spots for them and I really enjoyed this Tetris-like activity...I arranged everything so I could put the last treasures in, and I turned to the shopping cart...and it was gone!  

I looked in all directions.  I said to You-know-who, "The cart is gone!" 

She said forcibly, "Well go find it!" 

I looked in all directions again. Under my breath, I muttered and probably cursed a little. I relooked in all directions and stood still for what was a few moments, but seemed like hours. 

Finally, a young lady looked at me and said, "Sir, your cart is over there." This cart traveled across the street and parked itself where it was supposed to be - in the shopping cart corral. I repeat...it perfectly parked itself. No wonder I couldn't see it. This shopping cart is a Tesla shopping cart! 

I wanted to go home and put everything we bought away and email Elon Musk and tell him his invention has flaws, but I was wiped out after that ordeal. I wish I had that young lady's email address so I could thank her for pointing out the cart...and for calling me Sir. It's been a long time since I've been called Sir...and I still like it!

Bliss! Bliss?

We were apprehensive. This strange sickness was in the air, but we were okay. We decided to chance it.

We were cleared to travel on that day in March...March 8th. Bus ride from Boothwyn, PA to New York City. Temperatures checked, passports checked, forms filled out...and we were off!

It was a beautiful cruise. 

We washed our hands every ten minutes and sanitized every five. "Good morning, Washy-Washy!" sang the crew.

No self-service in the buffet because we didn't touch anything. They gave us utensils and plates and the food.

We had a fascinating balcony, and we had a full moon, and a quarter moon, and sunrises that the pictures don't do it justice.

                                                                     

The New York harbour was breathtaking, Night or day!

Jersey Boys (Frankie Valli The Four Seasons), Six (HerStory of Henry VIII), comedy, Beatles cover band...We were entertained!

Fun on the Bliss! Talking to the children when we were not at sea! Little fishies on the hallway carpet that guiding us to our destination (and they didn't work because we were lost most times.)

Kennedy Center in Florida. I still like his comforting image although he died when I was six years old...

...and now...finally...the Bliss!

It was March 15th. We left the ship and got our temperatures checked again. The computer recognized our faces from our passports. We rode back to our home, and we are still there!

Jackie had noticed that she starting getting symptoms of a virus and called her doctor.  Long story short, Wednesday morning, March 19th, she was tested. Self-isolation became mandatory quarantine. Her symptoms grew into fever, cough, loss of taste and smell, et.al. Ten days later, the results were in - POSITIVE!

Meanwhile, I had one day where I had a fever, and it went away. After a few days, I had a high fever, agita, and loss of taste and smell for eight days. Since Jackie tested positive, the health department said that I was a probable case. We are statistics. We are getting older. We are getting better and wiser.

Now I sing Happy Birthday twice...to me...when I wash my hands...twenty seconds!

Now I see the news. Covid is a word I never heard before March 15th. Now it is the most uttered every minute of every day. Sometimes I can't stand it. The reports can be repeated on CBS This Morning, the Evening News, and even Sunday Morning and the local News. One time is enough!

How about the commercials! The commercials have the word Covid in them...and depressing piano music...and a dentist that will comfort us while we purchase a gift card for somebody else to be used when 'this' is over. 
'Oh Oh Oh! It's magic ya know!' A favorite song from Pilot from 1975 when I was a senior in high school.

Now it's 'Oh Oh Oh Ozempic and two words after that.' Nope. Can't do it all the time.

The wonderful people that are on frontline workers can't see the news or the commercials. Pause for a moment to honor them. I wish it was all over...

Good thing that the warm days are here. We have a porch to be on. There is no television on the porch, and when we need the news, it will be there.

 Happiness, Joy, Bliss - This was what we felt on that ship. What we felt after we left was not. I wish that the powers that be would have made the decision to postpone the cruise. Too much sickness. Too much worry. Too many sick friends. Missing my family. Missing my friends.
I want a haircut. 

I want to go to the grocery store. I want to go to a restaurant. I want to see my family. 

We can dream. We can hope. We can get better. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. In the meantime, we're here. Wanna chat? Zoom call?  Private message? I'll wait...and there are still crossword puzzles to solve, books to read, and dirty bathrooms to clean... 

Hang in there. It's gonna be better...

Caleb, Martin, and Ove

I have a confession. The move from Parkesburg to Boothwyn took its toll on me. From the time we sold the house in August of last year until April of this year, I had not read or written anything. After the second stroke and until the sell, I had read six books written by Mitch Albom, and a trashy bathroom novel. Seven books in seven months - slowly but surely! Packing the home in Parkesburg, looking for a new home, moving, unpacking, celebrating Christmas, and three months of doing things other than reading and writing were sad distractions...and what a crime to abandon blogs and books (save the trashy one!) Now, I'm blogging again slowly, and I read three books slowly, after the hiatus.

I lived in Parkesburg for twenty-nine years. My children grew up there, I worked there, I churched there, I met many good people there that I call friends, and met even more good people that I call acquaintances. This young man is one of the latter, a funeral director from Parkesburg. He writes a blog called Confessions of a Funeral Director. The collection of blogs are unique in that the subject is death. I didn't really want to read about death, but some time ago I stumbled upon a humorous cartoon about death shared by George Takei on Facebook, and subsequently also shared by Caleb Wilde on his blog. I've read the blog often...because it is short and concise, intelligent, humorous and heartwarming. I have seen Caleb at a couple of funerals, then I introduced myself to him at the YMCA where my granddaughter was taking swimming lessons. I told him that I was a fan of the blogs. Another time, we were getting haircuts at the same time.  I told him again that I was a fan of the blogs. Lame on my part, but I wanted to tell him anyway. He humored me and was so cordial.

In May, after the break of reading, the first book read was by Caleb Wilde, Confessions of a Funeral Director: How the Businesss of Death Saved My Life. I had to return to reading. We bought the book, and I read slowly. I reread - slowly. For several weeks, more than a month, the author was my best friend as I slowly finished the book.

I connected to the book right away. In the first chapter there was a story about a family, two children and an aunt and uncle, that died tragically. I was working in the local elementary school where the children were schooled. We felt the impact of the incident. I connected right away with the story and with Caleb's anxiety because I suffered from anxiety throughout my life, most recently after my second stroke. Both of those connections were enough to carry on with my reading. I did not know the hours people like Caleb work. I did not know that he works with all phases of a funeral, from the call to get the deceased until he leaves the cemetery after the funeral. I had my phone next to me to look up words like trocar and how you use it. The morgue will not be visited by me any time soon! The personal stories from his childhood with his family in the funeral home, to the birth of his son: all were beautiful. The book is different than anything I've ever read. I think about death often: from my deceased family members to my own mortality, especially with my medical history. Caleb examines his confessions with humor, poignancy, warmth, and compassion.

A Man Called Ove was recommended to me after I revealed that I like stories that had a curmudgeon as the main character. I looked for it at the library to no avail, and forgot about it. Then, while I was reading Caleb's book, I stumbled upon the book at a church flea market. This was my next read. 

Ove was a curmudgeon. Nice! He was 59. Pretty close! He was a technological illiterate. Yup! Most of the time there was snow on the ground where he was. Humbug! He was always doing something. Yup! He was a little annoyed with the next generation with rules that are not followed. I understand! He is annoyed with his neighbors. Not always, but sometimes! His past is poignant. He had a wife who died, and we visit Ove's past to know what Sonja was like and what Ove thought of her.  Ove wanted to die. He wanted to be with her. He tried multiple times to die, but there was always something to foil his plans. This is a tale of life, love, living, and learning after death...Sonja's death. 

I wanted to read more every day to find the unraveling of the mind of a curmudgeon. This is my favorite fiction book to date! I pictured myself playing Ove in the movies. I love the musing and redemption that resulted in a less surly man. Netflix is playing the movie. I tried to view the trailer of the movie. It was Swedish with English subtitles...the difference in language was not my friend.  Netflix has been my friend with viewing English subtitles with English dialogue, but I didn't get through the trailer. I can see the scenery and the people in the trailer, and I think this will be a goal to read the subtitles faster and ultimate enjoy the movie.

Caleb and Ove have solidified the quest for reading for me. Now it was time to read I Must Say: My Life as a Humble Comedy Legend by Martin Short. I love comedy. The title alone would tell me that this 'humble comedy legend' has anecdotes for the years on television, Broadway, and the movies. But there was more. Martin Short has told the story of his life: his family beginnings, his famous funny friends, his wife and children and more.

Martin Short has told of his life, both the comedy and the tragedy, honestly and with grace. The friends and family members, especially his wife, that have died have, hit hard for Martin but their memory is still alive. Those who survive are cherished. Love, laughter, and being alive are the name of the game. 

I guess these guys have impacted my thinking, these authors and that character: Caleb, Martin, and Ove. I have been enriched. I've know that death can be terrible, but there is good, as this three works demonstrated.   I have enjoyed all of these titles. 

Picture this: a beautiful morning; a porch looking out at a yard that I don't have to mow; and a small forest beyond that; a good book; a cup of coffee; and a special bookmark given to me by my wife Jackie when my sister Janet passed away nine years ago. I have read...slowly! I have written...slowly!

I'm going to miss these works. I have grown fond of these guys. I know that the next author on tap, W. Bruce Cameron, has a curmudgeon within the story, A Dog's Purpose. I know that this will be as engaging as Caleb, Martin, and Ove!