Every Contingency

Overnight trip upcoming.  By car.  With wallet and credit card and enough cash.  To a major city with retail options exceeding what I have at home.  I should be able to put my worldly goods in something more compact than my airline carry-on. Clothing for the next day.  Grooming needs for the morning. PJs.  Even my laptop with its charging cord.

But over an adult lifetime of short trips, my ability to plan sensibly has yielded to the what-ifs and what else might I like to do while away.  Some things I never take, especially stuff that's not mine.  My two checked-out library books stay home.  When I complete the return drive, I may not go directly home, as I have a synagogue event to attend.  A casual one, but not t-shirt and shorts for a kabbalat shabbat gathering.  I will need to drive home in something I can wear there.  And I will need an extra outfit in 

case I spill something on what I would have worn in either direction.

My grooming kit is largely set from previous longer travel.  It takes some room, and I probably won't use more than a comb and dental supplies which can fit in a TSA quart-size clear plastic bag, much smaller than my dopp kit.  Spare glasses can stay in their usual car compartment.  I need them most when I need to drive home, though I always exchange my good pair for a more expendable set when I risk losing them at a beach or amusement park.  Neither of these destinations planned.  

Even though I will only be with my daughter and granddaughter for about 24 hours, they may want to eat out.  Need something suitable.  Bought a VLog kit to record the little one.  Have to take that.  And there are things I work on.  Laptop.  Mini-recorder.  Moleskine clone.  Some pens.  Maybe a small portfolio with paper.  Transistor radio?  Can stay home.  My medicines I will transfer to another case.  Two pills at night, seven the next morning.  No reason to take two weekly pill cases.  Prescriptions I cannot easily purchase while away, though nothing will seriously happen to me if I miss those pills for one dose.  Or maybe not work on stuff for two days, other than what I can directly perform on a laptop and cell phone.  Charging cords?  I keep a car charging cord, so I could charge the cell phone en route or use that charging cord in my hostess' port that she uses.  And VLog charging cords part of the package.  Same port as cell phone. Maybe leave smart watch home and wear the more functional Casio 168, which needs no charging.  Cell phone can do pretty much the smart watch tasks that I use.  Count down timer mostly.

YouTube has ample short videos of how to best pack.  Most are based on experience.  None addresses my fears of not having what I need when I need it, let alone the easy ability to compensate.  I'll overpack as usual, but try to show some restraint.

Learning a VLog

My two grandchildren, each not quite a year old had scheduled visits.  With a $50 Amazon gift card as an honorarium for serving as a university research subject, I spent the majority of it on a VLog kit, anticipating not only my grandchildren's encounters but some other summer travel.

It arrived the day before the order tracker indicated it would.  I unpacked the plastic Yamaha recorder, two sham moleskines, and a package of purple highlighters that comprised the rest of this Amazon submission.  The VLog kit on the screen looked very portable.  It had a backlight and a microphone.  Its wand could stay handheld or it could be extended for placement on a floor.  It all came compactly packed in a not fully hard case with a zipper.  It stayed as I received it until my son and his wife escorted my grandson into our living room.  I really did not need this to take a photo of his adorable face or a short video of him crawling in our lower hall.  

As we schmoozed in our living room, I unzipped the case.  It had more parts than I expected, along with instructions printed on the front and back of a single page with print too small to discern with my bifocals.  I handed it to my son.  The illustration enabled me to unfold the tripod base.  Extending the tripod from handheld to free-standing took longer.  I placed the phone horizontally in its adjustable receptacle.  I do not know if will take the phone in its vertical dimension, but the receptacle rotates so I can position the phone that way.  The backlight came in a separate compartment.  Attaching it was not obvious, but I deduced where it must fit.  By rotating the phone, I could get the bottom of the light to fit in a portion of the stand.  It had an on/off switch that did not seem part of the instruction sheet.  It worked.  I remembered to turn it off.  That's as far as I got before they had to leave for their five-hour drive home.

Later in the afternoon, I decided to tackle the rest.  It has a remote control that I will need to pair with the phone.  It also comes with two microphones and a receiver.  All ports are USB-C which makes it easy. Cables included. Everything seems to come pre-charged.  The microphones have a special instruction sheet.  The exposed side seems to be Chinese or Japanese.  When I open the folded part and turn it over, English appears.  Larger print than the main instructions.  I checked the transmitter.  It fits into the charging port of the phone.  Each microphone has a clip.  I cannot tell if these also need to be charged, but I will do that before I travel to meet my granddaughter in a few days.  I'll pair everything before I go to sleep tonight.

It amazes me how inexpensive these adjuncts to a phone have become.  I have no interest in creating professional YouTubes, but would like a more sophisticated record of the people most dear to me and of the places I visit.  Everything fits in a small case easily transported in a carry-on or backpack, though perhaps not my briefcase.  Not especially user-friendly, since I have to repackage everything to transport it.  Reading the instruction's miniscule print did not go easily.  But by my next trip in a few days and mini-vacation in a few weeks, I should have this upgrade ready for use. 

Overscheduled Week

Retirement usually offers ample, maybe excessive, time flexibility.  Appointments are few.  During the academic year OLLI classes require me to be at a certain place at a certain time.  Shabbos comes every Friday night.  Saturdays are more flexible depending on what synagogue obligations I've undertaken.  Doctors' appointments and prepartory lab testing appear on my schedule more than they once did, though not in a burdensome way.  And I have special events:  birthdays, anniversary, Seder, Thanksgiving, Mother's Day.  But mostly not much needs entry in a scheduling grid.  I can travel when I want, mostly.  Shop at times I choose.  Find time at My Space and in my kitchen.  I've committed to doing things, but mostly control when to do them, sometimes at the expense of accountability.

So with some trepidation, I look to a rare upcoming week where other people impose my activities.  My children and grandchildren who live a distance away will each be coming my way a few days apart.  Very high priority.  I will have an overnight trip for one, have to prepare a luncheon for the other.  At mid-week, other events appear.  An organization to which I have done important things sponsors a semi-annual reception.  It is my chance to meet the remarkable students that my committee has awarded scholarships.  As that early evening gathering concludes, my synagogue holds its annual meeting.  I contribute or reap very little from that event but as a Board Member and frequent contributor of skill to their ongoing worship program, I probably ought to go, at least via Zoom.  While I do useful things for them, I create nothing, unlike the scholarship committee where my analytical input has transformed how the committee decides which applicants to award.  

The next day I have a doctor's appointment with my most irritating practice.  They are tracking a few things, not always in the most expedient way.  Appointments for office and procedures are at a premium, so I take what I can.  For this encounter, an online visit, I know what I want to accomplish.

Then travel the next day, leaving me about 24 hours with daughter and granddaughter.  They will have traveled from SF to NY a few days before, so should be rested.  I do not desire much tourism.  From there, I drive home in time for a pre-shabbos barbecue at the synagogue.  I have mixed feelings about these events, as the last cookout I found problematic.  Shabbos services the next day, with my wife a key participant.  Then Fathers' Day where I make my own special dinner.

These events of specified times add up.  They come with the opportunity cost of what I could be doing instead, but seeing kids and scholarship recipients offers high value.  A doctor's visit by Zoom takes less than a half hour.  The synagogue activities disrupt a bit more, though not having to make Friday night dinner at home offsets what I would usually find myself doing.  Even travel slows down from the norm.  When I go to NYC once or twice a year, I center it around attractions of a tourist destination.  Focusing on people this time reduces some of the decision stress, though I still do not know where I will park my car near my destination in Brooklyn.

The cluster of events forces me to immerse myself in other people.  Less time at my laptop, more holding grandchildren and shaking hands.  Not that much more in my car.  Less with myself, less checking off what tasks I've completed each day.  Probably a beneficial reset for the more usual weeks that follow. 

Paper and Pen and Mind

They made me take typing in 9th grade.  Manual typewriter.  Office model that could not be stolen easily, though the Junior High did not chain them to the desks.  I typed poorly.  Fewer Words per Minute than most, but also fewer typos than most.  I peeked at the paper, something the teacher discouraged.  It became a useful skill.  When my mother typed my term papers, the Greeks became Freeks.  When I left enough time to type them myself, using high grade erasable paper, my spelling upgraded to flawless.  In college I moved up to an electric typewriter, which I still have in its case, placed in a nook in My Space.  I cannot remember the last time I used it.  And then came Word Processing, which transformed not only how I typed and edited, but how I thought.

My typewriter served me as a tool.  I composed what I wanted to express, except for the briefest of letters, on paper.  Sometimes a canary-lined pad bound but tearable at the top, other times with loose-leaf paper removed from a binder.  I'd also had index cards that i could sequence to create a more coherent composition.  But most of my prose needing submission started on lined paper in my own marginal handwriting.  Before even opening the typewriter case and plugging the machine into the outlet, I'd proofread the text.  Then typing became a chore intended for presentation.  Thinking always took place on paper first.

Not everyone did this, even back in the day.  Journalists often carried portable typewriters to their assignments.  They typed their reports on-site, transmitted them to their editors and proofreaders, who amended sentence structure, spelling, and grammar.  Often the editor enhanced readability, a hint that maybe the best thinking and expression took a hit when typed.  Then onto the typesetters.

Word Processing and computerized editing changed that.  Now available for 30 years, I and undoubtedly a majority, now think and type, bypassing the pen altogether.  Editing for presentation still takes as much effort as composition, but most output never has public readers as its intent.  Is the thinking that goes into creation as discerning when ideas go directly to keyboard?  Some studies and YouTube Videos suggest not.  As a result, the sales of pocket notebooks and desktop journals have increased.  Personal planners with 7-rings and removable pages still compete successfully with computerized personal productivity programs.  There are elements that the computers have not yet matched.  The electronics excel at reminding or carrying over individual tasks.  It does not do as well in creating priorities or sorting goals.

While I do my best to go from mind to keyboard to create compositions, respond to the written work of others, and generate emails, some mental tasks still seem to perform better with a pen and paper.  Every night I take out a marble composition book to jot down three of the day's accomplishments.  My exercise attainments goes into a written log each week.  Every day I write something that annoyed me into a spiral notebook, then turn back one month and six months to see how the untoward experiences of those days have largely resolved.

I've tried electronic planning. Todoist doesn't even come close to a writing pad.  Weekly outline every Sunday, color coded by type of task.  Every evening, that weekly outline gets reviewed with the next day's intended activities transcribed onto what is effectively a half-sheet of blank computer paper.  My six month projects appear not on a screen but on a whiteboard in my line of sight to the left of my desk.  Not only does it enable me to think, to discern, but my handwriting remains recognizable as mine.

I've never abandoned pen and paper.  Perhaps I should use them more.  On my last Amazon order, I included two pocket notebooks.  The first went into my cross-chest carrier, along with a mini digital recorder.  I can generate thoughts portably, in airplane or in coffee shop.  Ideas and reflection still require thinking, pausing, and transcribing.  Not very different than how the best of my teachers taught me how to create and record.  Predictions of the computer making paper obsolete just did not materialize, and for good reason.

Strangers Responding

I posted requests on Reddit's r/long island and FB's Visit all 50 States.  My wife accepted an abbreviated vacation this summer, with more arduous travel vetoed for now.  We opted to visit Long Island, a three hour car trip.  I had been to various parts many times, though always purposeful.  Weddings, Bar Mitzvah's, Funerals.  Visiting my grandfather's siblings, including an outing onto Rockaway Beach.  Stony Brook as a likely place I might attend.  Tourism only occurred one time when my daughter, who then lived in Queens, suggested Father-Daughter Bonding for Father's Day.  She drove me the full length of the Island's North Shore, a very pleasant afternoon, though a lot of time in the car between my round-trip drive home and the east-west dimension of America's largest island.

This time we go as pure tourists.  No intention of visiting anyone, though I know people who live there.  While residents of Metro NY flock to their beaches, I have suitable beaches readily accessible in my home state.  This time we go to get away from home, seek out places unique to the geography and culture of where we visit.  Museums, history, mansions, unique sites, wineries.  Sources for destinations on The Island abound.  YouTube videos, I Love NY, a variety of agencies to promote local tourism, Trip Advisor.  I looked at all of these.  From them I could stake out the Gilded Mansions repurposed for public use, the distribution of vineyards, enclaves of the nouveau riches of today that might still let a peasant couple gawk from not too close, historical lighthouses, ferry access when an escape might be needed.  Like much data, it comes as a mostly unsorted jumble.  So I asked people who had familiarity on social media platforms, each trusted from prior use.

People responded very quickly, about a dozen each on FB and Reddit.  It made it more of an annotated list, places to give priority when time is limited.  In this era of social media trolls, the generosity and candor of those who responded did not surprise me.  As much as I ration FB, the assigned days to sign on usually bring me to the Visit 50 States site.  I live in an obscure state that people want to cross off their list and in a multistate area where travelers want to check off 4-6 states on their road trip.  If somebody asks what to do nearby, I guide them.  Often they will post with traveler information, where they originate, ages of kids, elderly people in car with them, pets.  I can adapt suggestions to that.  What might a grade schooler like to visit, maybe where kids go on our local school class trips?  Have they ever been on a subway.  Ever seen Amish or Hasidim who live in isolated enclaves?  My familiarity can be very helpful, something a generic YouTube or vlog cannot easily duplicate.  That insight I offered to posters' queries about where I live now and in the past was reciprocated to me that afternoon.  

Reddit, at least when used in my judicious way, has never displayed the toxicity of FB, nor the incessant insertion of advertising or news feeds chosen by an algorithm to make me irate enough to stay logged on.  I ration which days I access and mostly what I access.  People share my interest in Judaism and Jewish cooking.  Many have less experience than me, so I try to be as helpful as possible to people going to the synagogue for the first time or seeking resources to learn more about Judaism.  I have had inquiries about a potholes on the roadways and a library misadventure.  My questions got many informative responses from civil engineers and librarians, as did my request to enhance my few days on Long Island.

If there is a message from this experience, both as benevolent contributor and reciepient, social media need not be the electronic cesspool that users so often encounter, one dominated by trolls and conflict entrepreneurs.  There is business model that capitalizes on exploiting pushing people's buttons, one where some regulation would enhance public experience.  Most users, though, when give the chance, come to these platforms with a measure of good will.  We find people who seek information, reassurance,  guidance through a dilemma, or recovery from an untoward experience.  Strangers, whether with names on FB or avatars or Reddit, reach out when we can.  We want the other people to have good experiences when they visit our places, whether geographic or places of worship, or from the recipes that challenge them in their kitchens.  The users come through on this, creating the expanded communities where people benefit each other.  Nothing demeaning, nothing malicious.  

To get to these generous people, though, you sometimes have to wade through and set aside some of the odious posters, more on FB than Reddit.  Like many people, I read about the downsides of these platforms.  Anti-Semitism, neonazism shielded by anonymity, attacks of people's appearance at vulnerable times in their lives.  I experience very little of this, though enough to exit all platforms for six months, to ration my presence on my return, and to write off of few platforms as places to not enter.  But as a selective tool, people can connect to some very fine people ranging from HS friends who share lives in retirement, experts in various subjects, the people who root for the same teams as you, and people who you will never meet who serve as gracious advisors.  It's a challenge to stay selective and not get rattled by the people you'd rather avoid.  I haven't since my judidious return, and won't meet any of them either.

Choosing a Place

At one time, though a number of years ago, at least one coffee outing a week took place on schedule.  Every Sunday morning I would slip my black nylon pouch which contained my weekly planning supplies and head out for coffee.  One place dominated, a local shop that offered a choice of three blends and a table to customize with sweeteners, lighteners, and spice shakers.  Then I would spread paper, pen, and markers across a table.  By the time the last drop got sipped, I returned to my car with two completed lists, one enumerating projects for the week, the other with initiatives for that Sunday, all coded by color.  Sometimes I'd order a pastry, mostly not.  I changed the destination occasionally, preferring Einstein's across the street when I had a Bagel and Schmear coupon, or the Starbucks around the corner.  My local shop had the advantage of offering the coffee in a porcelain mug.

I don't remember how long ago I last did that.  Now My Space serves the Sunday mornings.  Coffee brews over a k-cup.  Colored pens sit in empty spice jars in my line of sight, colored markers in a frosted plastic box from a back-to-school sale on my left.  Very little need to visit a coffee shop.

When Starbucks became a ubiquitous international destination, its founders modeled its locations on a European coffee bistro, a meeting place dating perhaps to the 18th century.  Coffee could not be obtained as easily in that era.  Now with mass marketing of coffee, or beer for that matter, we still have a social need for a coffee house or pub experience.  Coffee houses became places to exchange ideas, pubs to connect with a community.  In America, pre-Starbucks, perhaps the local diner or taverns close to big factories served that gathering function.  Each had an element of convenience, but Starbucks strove to create an experience.

And for a while I could go to the local places that offer specialty coffee, run into somebody I know with predictable frequency, and complete some work that I brought with me.  

I rarely seek these places out in recent years.  When traveling, coffee from WaWa fits in the cup holder as I drive.  Overpriced coffee from an airport kiosk replaces what I would have made at home were I not pressed by schedule.  I purchase a beverage at those places, not an experience.  Every few months, though, I want a break from my house.  For $3.50 or so, I can rent a table which allows me to type on my laptop or outline ideas on a writing pad.  The coffee, flavored as I like it, gets sipped.  It does not serve a social purpose but a carved out half-hour to sit alone with my mind in creative mode,  free of the distractions of My Space.

I still buy experience, but a different one than outlining my week on a Sunday morning.   My local options have not changed.  Large franchises:  Starbucks, Einstein's, Panera, Dunkin, and the small regional chain.  Some give you a disposable cup to fill, much as WaWa would.  Others have an attendant taking customer orders.  Things to eat while sipping the hot coffee have accelerated in price, with only a Dunkin Donut remaining close to my price point.  Starbucks and Dunkin now sell coffee more than experience.  Attendants at Starbucks have lines of cars awaiting their turn at the drive-in windows.  People inside, at least at suburban locations, have become the exception.  They removed the cream thermoses and spice shakers during the pandemic, never replacing them.  Dunkin just pours hot liquid splashed with something white.  Tables have an IKEA look, chairs of plastic.  Not a place to do best thinking.  

Where to go?  The biweekly cleaners had come.  I could close the door to My Space, but I found the bustle a distraction.  After they finished vacuuming the upper landing, I headed downstairs with my cross chest travel pack for a morning of coffee.  Front door obstructed.  I left by the back door.  Panera maybe.  They have porcelain cups, adequate seating, quiet nooks.  I drove past their strip mall.  Einstein and Starbucks not the respite I sought.  Local shop, perhaps.  Finally, after driving in a loop, I returned home to find the cleaner's van still in front of my house.  And I wanted to do some mental activity.  Nearest option, Dunkin.  

As a company, there are a lot of them nearby.  While they once had Fred the Baker getting up at 3AM to create luscious donuts for the morning rush, the CEO retired him.  Making and selling coffee is much less labor intensive.   Coupons for coffee and donut discounts used to arrive in the mail or as a newpaper supplement frequently.  These have faded into consumer history.  I drove to a strip mall, squeezed my Toyota into one of the few remaining spaces, and headed inside at mid-morning.  Menu on a flat screen, donuts in a case, store promotions more for cold drinks than coffee.  I picked a French cruller, standard coffee, handing the counter lady a $20 bill.  I kept $15 in change, leaving the unspent 50 cents in the tip jar.  They had processed me through efficiently.

I placed the cardboard container on the flimsy table, pulled the tiny white plastic tab back and took a sip. A paper bag, recyclable if not soiled by residual donut fying oil, held the cruller.  I took that out and ate the first bite.  Then another sip.  From my travel pouch, I removed a pocket notebook and pen.  Bite of donut, sip of coffee, two ideas entered into notebook.  Repeat until donut fully consumed and page of notebook filled to capacity.  Majority of very mediocre coffee remained, its white plastic travel top still on, and kept reasonably hot by the engineers who designed the cardboard coffee mugs.  Accomplished my purpose, which was writing in the notebook.  Got a pretty good donut as a bonus.  Coffee, the excuse for making the side trip, mostly an afterthought.

Gathering spots, which Starbucks envisioned, have fallen from grace.  Britain still has pubs.  Maybe major cities, European and American, have espresso bars.  The few times I treat myself to a happy hour beer, it never looks like Cheers.  No people interacting with anyone else other than the person who accompanied them.  I go to parks frequently, invariably the oldest person there.  Kids play on swings and slides, parents keep them safe.  People who walk their dogs sometimes let their pet interact with other visitors, never interact themselves.  My favorite diner closed, but at its peak, the people at the counter seemed recognizable every week, a mini-community of each other plus the waitress, if not including me in the chatter.  Since the pandemic, OLLI no longer has people sitting in chairs or at tables talking to each other during the half hour that separates class sessions.  People seem mostly content with their screens, small for phone and laptop, giant for TV streaming.  

There are still some events that attract throngs.  Sports stadiums, political rallies, Yom Kippur, Pride Parades.  People come in part to enjoy the event, mostly as witness unless a direct participant.  Meeting random people rarely makes the agenda.  Even the candidates who work the crowds, grabbing as many hands as their reach allows, want those present to meet them, not a desiring public servant seeking to acquaint with the people.

So my coffee excursion did not fulfill Starbuck's vision as a gathering place.  I had a task. whether weekly planning on Sunday mornings gone by or introducing myself to my new pocket notebook just delivered by Amazon.  The cruller made writing in the notebook more pleasant, the Dunkin coffee and the plastic chairs contributed little.

Treadmill Respite

Every month at the end I offer myself three consecutive days without treadmill sessions.  Those days are 29-30-31 or 29-30-1, depending on the month.  They are welcome, they are needed.  Often I find myself sore, mostly legs, as most recent months I push myself to a new walking duration or up the speed by 0.1mph.  Many months, including the one currently transitioning, have setbacks, days of illness or injury.  I do my very best to avoid any zero days, mostly succeeding.  But a drastically reduced session rarely resumes at the full level of where I left off.  This allows me to reset at sessions 5-10 minutes below where I had exercised previously, then resume to full sessions, usually by month's end.

Those three days pass rather quickly, often with recovery more functional than complete.  Back still a little stiff, knees still needing local care, if not a couple doses of naproxen.  The new month invariably begins, filled with some optimism of reaching another new level when the new month concludes.

I have been fortunate that limitations have been mostly orthopedic, not cardiovascular.  I had some symptomatic volume depletion following a blood donation this past month, one that reduced this timed walk to five minutes.  I've also over-extended, feeling energetic enough at 25 minutes to push for 30.  Additions of two minutes go un-noticed, even reset the new normal.  Additions of five minutes bring soreness. This creates a branch point, endure or cut back?  I mostly choose the prudent option and reset my sessions downward.

Having now done this for a couple of years into my 70's, I definitely feel more energetic, maybe adapting to a basal level of lower extremity soreness.  Good decision to allow some healing each month.