Restoring Living Room

Among my twelve semi-annual initiatives, one that gets propagated every six-month cycle without fulfillment, has been to entertain guests in my home on three occasions during that half year.  With Shavuot on is way, an opportunity for an elegant milchig dinner on a Sunday came along.  Since I have no friends and my wife keeps on better terms with people, I delegated the selection of guests to her while I function as the baalaboosta.  A veto.  Our entertaining spaces appeared too shabby for guests who have real jobs and wear nice clothing.  That took me to a branch point, find my own friends who were as slovenly as me or spruce up the living room and dining room.

Both rooms have possibilities.  We use the dining room for fleishig routinely.  Carpets were expertly cleaned for Pesach.  It was the curtains that irked my wife most, particularly the living room.  OK new ones for the living room, wash and rehang the ones in the dining room.  The latter went on Gentle Cycle yesterday.  On emerging from Delicate Dry, they looked cleaner and felt relieved of whatever had risen to the top of our dining room's ambient air.  Removing them, though, exposed neglect to the window.  Yellow paint faded, some vacuuming needed, a wash with diluted detergent on a damp sponge added to the tasks, and some Windex.  The hanging hardware needs to be anchored better into the drywall. Then put the curtains back.  Except for a full length seam tear.  So off to Boscov's for new ones, easily installed on the existing rod, which is not the right option for the curtain style.  Obtain and install a more elegant rod.

The living room was a whole other matter.  Drawstring curtains actually frayed.  Sofa broken in the frame.  Cats over the years made territorial claims on the chairs.  Tables, though, in good shape, except for one obtained at a yard sale that should be repainted a more vivid color.  So start with curtains.  Easy to buy online?  Just go to Wayfair, type in dimensions, and pick one.  Most out of stock.  Decided that rods with grommets would be easier than what we have now.  After failure with online sites, I just went to Bed Bath & Beyond, picked the style, only to find that they fell one package short on the shelves.  No problemo.  Ordered it online.  Out of stock.  Substituted a gray color for taupe, and now in possession waiting to be installed.  Have to take down panels for washing, decide if we need one or two rod fixtures, then measure and install, but first vacuum and wash the window frames.  And in order to get to the windows, we need to move stuff.  

Once done, it's off to IKEA for the sofa.  Looked at local stores, more than I want to spend, more sturdy than what I need for relatively infrequent use.  Or Wayfair.  

Paint table.  Replace a table lamp.  Dust everything.  

Too much trouble for a couple of guests.  We really need to inaugurate with a party.  Once it's done.

Post SSRI

Things go better when they have a purpose, one defined, unambiguous, and pursued with some flexibility.  I put myself on SSRIs while still in solo practice, using office samples, with the approval and guidance of my doctor.  Its purpose was to get me more focused so I could stay on task.  Mixed results.  It's beneficial side effect, almost a theme of Peter Kramer's Listening to Prozac, was that it resulted in my being more congenial. A less favorable side effect was that my mind often felt dulled, in exchange for focus and productivity.  

Several drug holiday's have had similar results.  Sharper thinking, more impatience.  And more dissatisfaction with wherever I found myself.  Chemically driven contentment.  As I get more irritable and become less cordial, I note it and resume the pills.  Yet that was not the purpose of medicating myself, indeed it was a useful side effect.

Now it's time to get off without the intent of a limited respite.  Been off a few weeks, don't miss them.  I'm abrasive but maybe if my synagogue experience irritates me I should be abrasive.  My mind seems more incisive.  I read more carefully, immerse myself in the difficult, take pleasure from being interactive.  My telos may not be to be personable but to express candor, which I do.  Consequences positive and negative, but I'm more in control without the added serotonin floating through the synapses.  

The original prescription was for a purpose that need not be maintained.  I'll deal with social abrasiveness and its unfavorable consequences.

And the Living Is Easy

Summertime.  I'd probably not want to live in a place that did not have all four distinct seasons at least identifiable.  Being at a place that allots them their annual quarter seems an added plus.  Activities don't really suspend in the summer.  They get substituted.  OLLI goes dormant with a brief interlude to register for when it resumes.  It's the right time to let my synagogue attendance go dormant in a parallel way, even though the cycles and obligations of Judaism really don't change.  I'm long past summer camp.  While in retirement I can travel anytime, or even during employment once the kids were no longer dependent, summer still has a flexibility  for either pursuing this or for planning the major expeditions for the fall when the crowds dissipate.  I will need some hotels and airlines later but arrange them while it's still summer.

Our local Christmas Tree Shops maintains a quadrant for seasonal living which I just toured.  Next holiday, Memorial Day for which people already purchased specifics, though mentally that opens our summer season even if the astronomers take a different view.  Despite what some in the opposing political camp may assert, I'm a pretty worthy American.  I do things that advance America conceptually, defend it from setbacks, and contribute taxes and ideas.  I don't buy a lot of flag merchandise but own some, wear it not only on those days, and display the flag outside the front door.  I don't buy more merchandise for the celebration.  Barbecue has become part of the holiday experience.  They had items to make that happen as part of the 4Jy section.  Not used my equipment.  Probably should but not a great priority.  Guess I'm more a kitchen maven.

Swimming or other aquatics has a more enduring section not targeted to a specific event.  For the summer, I plan visits to two Delaware beaches, Ocean City though probably as a non-aquatic sightseer, and a water park.  Bought a plastic device that I could insert into the sand with a container to hold a can of soda or other stuff.  Already have everything I need for getting wet, drying off,  or reducing the downsides of sun exposure.  

This is the year that my gardens will flourish, or so my imagination prompted me last December when I set my semi-annual projects.  Thus far they have, and with the assistance of the Christmas Tree Shops.  Seeds and stems from nursery now all fully planted.  Got a new watering can.  Have enough tools and seem to know where they are.  Parceled different parts of my plantings to focus on small segments at a time, with thinning of what has sprouted looming as the next project.

People go for picnics.  I've allotted two picnics.  People sit on their patios.  I had my backyard deck refinished a few years ago.  Not a good risk for a portable fire pit, as attractive as they appear.  Don't particularly like eating outside when I have a fully functional kitchen and dining room.

For some reason I do most of my house upgrades in summer.  Invested in landscaping in the spring.  Need to revive the living room and dining room visually, which will mean curtains and a sofa.  Christmas Tree Shops had curtains and rods, though something like this I'd like a broader selection of more durable quality.  Wayfair or IKEA is probably better.  But the suspension of many activities of the spring and fall better enable time to be dedicated to this.  Not hard to do, but need to do it.  Some things of summer are not unique to summer, but seasonally convenient.

So as Memorial Day and Shavuot approach, and I as I reap some of the attention to personal fitness that I've undertaken since the winter, I'm ready to immerse myself in some neglected recreation.  Touring the Christmas Tree Shops generated some useful ideas on how to best do this.

Sleep Reset

 For a long time, my effort at sleep hygiene had gone very well.  Into bed at a certain time, out of bed when the iTouch watch buzzes, no bed for anything other than what a bed was intended for with the addition of a book I am reading and practicing an upcoming Torah reading.  Sleep cycles still had not transitioned from one to the next but I had a good inkling of when I would awake and for how long.

I now find myself more wakeful.  I assume it is a desired effect of setting aside my daily SSRI dose a few weeks ago, but other causes are possible.  I no longer feel a need to rest on the recliner at mid-day.  Falling asleep has taken longer with onset at a later hour.  Sleep cycle interrupted transitions seem longer, including one where it did not happen.  I followed sleep hygiene protocol and went to the recliner in another room.  

It is likely that this new situation, whatever its cause, will persist.  The principles remain the same: set wake and sleep times, restriction of what I do in bed to things that should be done there.  Maybe just the set times need some alteration.

My Nudgy Projects

Some things just stay on my Daily Task List indefinitely.  Most are not intricate like writing a book or losing weight, though typically components of the grand efforts that can be done in a session or two, helped with a countdown timer.  Finite nature of tasks helps.  I know in advance the morning's treadmill settings and duration.  The dishes needing washing are visible in the sink tub.  Those get attention.  It's the more amorphous initiatives like enhancing my recreation or making my two desks fully usable that finish most day's waiting to be transferred to tomorrow's Daily Task List.

Having an end point helps.  A lot do not.  I want to work on my intended summer travel today and to act in a way that's cheerful and cordial.  Hard to say when I've fulfilled that.  A lot of the indefinite daily postponements involve home maintenance and its upgrades.  It takes minutes to reinstall two screws into dining room chairs but never two minutes of priority.  Sometimes getting something off the Daily Task List should have its own claim to priority.  Gardens need attention most days, but what to do each day often lacks specificity.  Some things need preparation and a big block of time.  That may be why washing the kitchen floor rarely gets checked off despite its clear end point.  

Just Do It the ad said.  Never specified which among many Just Do's to tackle or how to know when you've really Done It.

New Curtains

Inviting guests has been one of my recurrent semiannual initiative failures.  I prepare elegant meals, tell questionable Rabbi jokes for entertainment, and select decent wine.  Yet I  seem to get past the invitation stage due to a serious paucity of friends.  My wife has a larger repertoire of people she knows.  She is more inclined to reach out to them.  Yet when I try to delegate this I am rebuffed by a downstairs that appears less than our means.  True, the cats have left their mark on our living room furniture.  But I have maintained the dining room well.  Living room clutter gets taken care of adequately once a year when the carpet cleaners come in advance of Pesach.  And our bathrooms would need just an ordinary cleaning.  

If the appearance of shabbiness is the barrier to my semiannual initiative that always fails, then the best option would be to do an appearance upgrade.  And the easiest way to do that would involve new window treatments as the focus of living room and dining room.

I have replaced the curtains in both rooms myself many years ago.  Hanging drapes with a valance for the living room, powder blue chiffon tiebacks for the dining room.  The dining room has faded badly.  It is easily replaced by a similar model, or perhaps it can be washed and rehung.  It was neither expensive to purchase nor difficult to install.  When new, it added sparkle to that room.  

Our living room curtains may offer more of a new starting point.  I never liked the valance.  The tiebacks were mostly dysfunctional.  Moreover, the rod, which can be part of the focus, was largely hidden by massive drapes.  The windows have white gauze panels which I like, and probably make any need for tiebacks counterproductive.  I think a new pair of rods of interest in their own right and curtains hanging from the rods to just above the floor would be the way to go.

The vastness of internet resources allows instruction in measurement and how-to's of installation.  Within my skill level, though not part of the shop curriculum in Junior High.  Probably not part of the girls' Home Ec curriculum either.

The drapes themselves come in endless styles, easily accessible through online retailers from the get anything Amazon to the more particular Etsy.  Or I can go to Boscov's to look at rods and hanging methods and perhaps even come across just the right ones.  It's a very doable project that escapes me from another project rut.

Contemporary Retailing

As I get older, retired, and transformed to an empty-nester, not only do I need very little but much of what I already have is surplus.  Need for dress clothing minimal.  Need for food less than I purchase, as my scale recently confirms.  Yard care contracted out.  Don't know how to use the electronics that I already have.  At one time I liked to putter around the stores to see what's there, or during Covid peaks, as an excuse to put myself someplace other than My Space.  More recently, I shop for groceries, keep up with medical maintenance, and get what I need for the personal pleasure of gardening.  When I exchanged seasonal clothing, I made note of a few replacement items, knew where to get them, and got them.

Partly to find a cooled place in devastating heat, partly to get me out of the house, I gave myself tours of some shopping centers, a regional anchor mall, a local Farmer's Market that rents space to small independent merchants, and two general merchandise places nearby that I used to tour and usually found a thing or two that I didn't really need but deceived myself into thinking I wanted.  Not at all as I remembered the mall and discount department stores, Farmer's Market much intact.

At the mall, once the modern Main Street gathering place that had to put limits on teenage access, traffic was pretty minimal.  Some stores in prime shopping time had entrance barriers, either about to be closed by their parent franchises or unable to find enough sales clerks.  How many mattresses can they really sell?  How many jewelry stores does it take to make all unprofitable?  Macy's bunched their clothing by brand.  I don't shop for brand.  If I need a shirt, show me all the shirts, like Amazon and Walmart do.  Only the Apple Store had significant interest, and even there much less than what I remember.  As I popped into a few places, the clerks, mostly school age kids funding their degrees or their cars a few bucks at a time, seemed eager to greet anyone, even somebody like me that might be of their grandfather's generation with little interest in style.  Most of the hallway kiosks had been abandoned.  There's not enough massages or cracked screen demand to justify the mall's fees.  If I really need anything, or even want anything that I don't need, Amazon is a much more efficient way to explore.  Now that covid has kept us home, we don't need to spend money to impress anyone with our style or hint at how much discretionary money we have.

It's hard to demote places like Ross Dress for Less or Big Lots.  I nearly always find a baseball cap or kitchen gizmo or discounted snack that I shouldn't be allowed to eat, which I purchase.  Not this time.  Inventory diversity has largely tanked.  Ross still economical, Big Lots not at all.  Even the Farmer's Market, dependent on niche presence, has lost traffic.  I assume the Spanish-speaking people will seek out the Hispanic market, and I'm a sucker for the two Chinese stores that sell discounted kitchenware and tools.  I found just the right sunglasses to slip over my glasses and bought two clamps to do a home project.  I cannot imagine the very attractive Western store really selling those ten gallon hats and cowboy boots and sterling belt buckles to the mostly lower income people who stroll by.  I just don't see any of these things anywhere in the places I frequent, so the store must be a display for a mail or internet commerce presence.  Price of pizza slices went up above what I was willing to pay.  Other places with food somehow do not display a health inspector's report.

Both at the high end and at the low end, stores are less of a destination than they once were.  Though I don't need or want anything, there probably are still people who do.  Just not those things from those sources.

Appreciating Whiskey

Total Whine runs classes for customers and the curious to better appreciate the things they sell.  I had taken one on beer a few years ago.  Informative but pretentious.  My wife gave me a gift card for another, leaving me the choice of a class on wine or on whiskey.  Having gotten interested in the variations of the product from some sampling stops on the Kentucky Bourbon Trail, I opted to continue my education on spirits.  Much less pretentious this time, indeed rated top-notch when they asked for my feedback a day or two later.

When I go to food and drink classes, the product or taste, or pairings interest me much less than the manufacture, distribution, history, their place in modern culture.  While the folks in Kentucky convinced me that there really are gustatory differences that differentiate the brands, firewater still serves as a useful generic class.  Of the nine samples offered, enough to require a designated driver, I could discern differences and even preferences.  I liked bourbon better than scotch, at least the automated part of my sensory system did, with the more rational part recognizing that I had two or three of each amid hundreds of competing tastes.  Were the samples different might the three scotches been of greater sensory pleasure?  Could I tell the difference between single malts, which they served, and blended, which is the more common and within budget?  Probably not.  Others might. I could distinguish the smokey tastes of peat from those distilled in the highland regions.  I might be amenable some day to visiting Scotland for their Scotch trail, as I did Kentucky.  But bourbon seemed sweeter.

I tasted some rye, some made from sour mash, some from a barley industry adopted to Japan.    Yes there is taste.  As I become more familiar, it is easier to compare one to another at a single tasting, though unlikely to remember if these same liquids were offered to me blindly a week later.

For the amateur like myself, it is really more the experience than the oral effects.  We have the glass.  I purchased one at a boutique on the Bourbon Trail that gives me purpose when I treat myself to spirits at home.  There is the ice in the glass, the measurement of amount.  At home, it's 50ml over ice.  At kiddush after services, a tradition dating back to the days at the JCC of Spring Valley when I was underage, the amount drops to 15ml in a disposable polystyrene cup served at room temperature.  This gets one sip with a little mucosal sting.  The iced liquid gets multiple small sips with some swishes.  At kiddush I banter with somebody right after the schnapps.  In My Space I savor the taste and coldness alone.

At the class, different liquids had different colors and scents.  That's the purpose of the tasting.  At kiddush it's to maintain a decades old minhag, at home it's to demarcate my late afternoon while I write, or at least think.  And there is the buzz, which needs the 50ml or the Total Whine's series of nine 15ml samples.  I think Manhattan was traded for that buzz.  And I would trade Kentucky

Certainly, the master distillers have the right combination of discernment and talent.  Marketers can figure out what will give their brand an advantage among novices, as there are likely too few sophisticated palates to shift market share.  The bottle adds to the experience.  More often than not, a purchase is made in a bottle more attractive than a simple cylinder.  That's part of the appeal, as is the label, and for Scotch, perhaps even the cardboard sleeve that covers the bottle.  

My own collection now alternates between a sweetish bourbon, barely off-sweet scotch in an elongated bottle with rectangular cross-section, and a rye in an interesting bottle that would have an elliptical cross-section.  It is unlikely that I would ever buy another bottle of any of them in appreciation of the favorable experience that they bring to my late afternoon.  It is not the taste that attracts me, or even the slight CNS jolt that follows.  Instead, it is the adventure of a different experience to the last one.  And for the amount that I consume, let alone seek out, I will never really have to choose a favorite brand, which would be an impediment to sampling the next unfamiliar brand.

Lag B'Omer Haircut

Seventy years into grooming, I have no recollection of the longest I have allowed my hair to grow.  Most likely the interval concluded at either a Thanksgiving during my university years when I had to look presentable to visiting relatives or Lag B'Omer.  While my consistency with cultural norms has been underwhelming, for the spring I count Omer and follow the tradition of cutting hair, including beard, on the Omer's 33rd day, with the Hebrew designation Lag.  

Childhood haircuts applied a measure of trauma perhaps, with one of my parents' favorite barbers using hand clippers probably of the same brand that I now see at the State Fair wool harvest.  My intro to style came from Mario as a teenager who would ask if I wanna my ears.  They still have their round contour despite the first emergence of Mr. Spock as a cultural icon at the time.  The campus barber need only be told that I was taking the train to NYC to be with relatives on Thanksgiving, and he knew what to do, having already done it that week for a lot of scalps brought to him by similar incentive.  For most of my career years, just the request for businesslike or restore to where it was two months ago would be understood by the barber.

And then we stopped having barbers.  We have stylists.  The barber chairs gave way to more fragile seating with fewer adjustment options and probably higher price.  As women broadened their presence in economic affairs nationally, they became more present as hair cutters.  Their shops rarely had that moving striped pole.  The final trim with a single blade razor undercutting some hot lather from a dispenser was no more.  The franchises groomed men and women.  So did most of the idependent haircut places in strip malls.  By convenience and need to not have this relatively unwelcome pampering as the high point of my day, I just picked a shop near my office that I could access in a patient-free interval, usually with a woman as the cutter.  The mucho machos like me would shampoo when I got home to minimize itching from stray hairs that the cape did not shield perfectly.  The lady cutters did the shampoo or at least wetting first to give them control over what they would cut.  And the era of make me look like Nixon or other prompt to imagination yielded to a more utilitarian checklist of itemized head features.  Mario's you wanna your ears is still there.  Elmo of St. Louis no longer has a professional descendant to offer you White Walls.  The part can now be customized to either side or eliminated altogether.  The nape of the neck hairline could be parallel to the floor or rounded.  Side and top have different proportion options.  The beard can be made into photogenic stubble, professorial, or rabbinic.  For those lacking a beard, sideburns can be assigned to end at any of the ear landmarks they made us learn in anatomy class.  And eyebrows now get shaped, not just stray strands removed from the visual fields.

In order to have all this done, you have to find somebody willing to do this.  Instead of walking into the shop at random, taking a seat, and waiting your turn, which could be quite a long time at Thanksgiving or Spring Break week when students want to make a good impression when they depart campus, they now expect appointments, easy to make online if you know how to do it, not that much harder to make by phone.  I never made one, and found myself turned down by the first shop I visited.  I then drove to a shopping center which I thought had a place that I've been to before.  The owners must have retired.  A Great Clips took their place. Not really ready to settle for amateurs who will probably be working at Staples or Domino's next month doing this according to the conglomerate's fashion guidelines.  Around the corner was a place with a barber pole.  No appointment, almost got asked to make one and come back later.  But a real barber, though relatively new one, at the end of the shop waved me into his idle chair, a real vintage one though probably bought pre-owned on eBay.  Being too young to know who Nixon was let alone what his stylish hair looked like, he patiently went over his head parts check list with me.  I still wanna my ears.  Then begin.  Modern equipment with clippers that vacuumed cut hair as you go.  Not a lot for anyone to sweep at the end.  No antiquated and potentially unsafe razors or lather.  On occasion, he would step back and check the symmetry.  Nice job.  Nice tip supplemented the fee.  And I got his card with his name, so I could make an appointment the next time I no longer think I should look like Cro Magnon Man.

Good Discussion

My AKSE presence usually too often puts me at the intersection of Hebrew School and Rabbinical Junior College.  There are the trivial perfunctories:  yasher koach, Shabbat shalom, nice tie.  We go through the motions.  Sermons at or above threshold, rarely erudite, and challenges to what the Rabbi said make me wonder about the validity of our appointed teachers nurturing challenges.   Our legacy and folk practice does not seem to be that at all, starting with Hebrew school where obedience creates the pathway to the Class Honor Roll a lot more reliably than intellect does, at least for my class and my kids' experience.  Challenge to our Executive Committee seems the most reliable way to get placed on our inbred Nominating Committee's Do Not Call List.  What we say we value too often doesn't measure up to an assessment of the actual experience.  And at least for me, it generates a measure of resentment.

But sometimes the .200 hitter gets a hanging curveball for a moment in the limelight.  Our Education Committee hit that home run this week.  They sponsored a movie for us to watch, Why the Jews?, a documentary by John Curtin that explores why Jews have been disproportionately prominent in advancing science and culture in the past 150 years, particularly in America.  We were asked to view the movie in advance, then discuss its ideas and implications.

Basically, this is an hour-long film that one would show at a USY or Ramah to tell the kids how wonderful they all are and why they should appreciate their origins.  One more ego boost to the Children of Entitlement.  To play the same film for an audience already part of the dominant culture, highly successful with advanced degrees though a notch or two short of the elite that the movie profiled, the reaction in more circumspect.  While the Rabbis want to rally their USY troops to have ethnic pride and appreciation for what their sponsored agencies are doing for them, the reality when teased out is much different.  Those of us on Zoom could easily identify that difference.  Those who succeeded had to schect part of those institutions to go to their preferred direction.  Obedience may get you on the Honor Roll in Hebrew School or a seat on the synagogue Board where dissenters are often scorned, but Disruptive Innovation, that mixture of insight, chutzpah, and independence moves the world ahead.  Once done, Jews who did very little to move the world ahead, maybe even impeded it, still get some of the halo glow from those who did.  Irrespective of the conclusions, the level of thought on  Zoom that evening far exceeded any wisdom imparted from the Rabbi's podium.  For that hour, my mind sparkled.  I sparkled.

It was not my only successful mind immersion.  I had been to an awards banquet where experts spoke and the audience responded, including me.  As a senior, the analytical and inquisitive parts of my mind are still quite agile.  I derive satisfaction when the CNS does some exploration.  I'm a sucker for expertise, the real thing, not the title driven.  Later I attended an interview with Van Jones of CNN by the President's sister Valerie, who turned out to be an ace interviewer.  My mind again recognized new ideas, some really implemented with success, that I would have rejected on my own, had I thought of them at all.

Covid isolation, echo chambers, triviality of conversations that never progress beyond opening greetings, even deflection by our clergy and others when I try to expand an inquiry.  All batter me.  The exchanges without enmity or agenda to fulfill have become the CPR for my CNS.  For that hour or two at each event I was immersed.  If I could be participatory, I was.  If I required and agent, like the Van Jones interview, the agent represented me well, as did the moderator at the AKSE discussion.  I really don't have to settle for mediocrity.  We are done a great disservice when our agencies, Jewish, governmental, and secular aim too low, as has become the expectation nowadays.  But we admire, sometimes envy, those with the talent and independence to put themselves ahead of just getting by and offering a share of what they accomplished to those like me who are less accomplished, though fully appreciative.

,

Getting Away

Made a list of places I'd like to go or experiences I'd like to have this summer, into the fall, and maybe  even a little beyond.

1. Visit Roz
2. Visit Alan
3. Florida cemetery
4. Beth David
5. Cedar Park
6. Delaware Beach twice
7. Ocean City before July
8. Europe end of summer
9. Picnic locally twice
10. Pennsylvania water park

Not an unreasonable set of destinations.  Four require hotels.  Three require air travel.  Maybe about forty days total needed to do all of them.  Technically I've done all of them before, but all can be different experiences from the ones before.  

Some things not on the list, though not specifically rejected.  Never been white water rafting.  Sorta been deep sea fishing once, but more as a chaperone with scouts than as a mighty sea hunter.  Never driven cross-country or even to Florida.  Not been mountain climbing or hang gliding.  Have been largely risk averse.  So this upcoming experiences recapture the once familiar, or maybe the shoulda been more familiar, though each in a different way.  

This time when visiting the Bay Area I should rent a car or take a day trip through a tour operator to wine country.  Can venture outside Pittsburgh to the Flight 93 monument or to Fallingwater.  If I go to Florida, even with South Florida National Cemetery as the reason for the trip, I should do my best to connect once or twice with old friends.  Same with the NY Cemeteries.  Delaware beaches could be combined with minor tourism or fishing.  Ocean City can be extended to Assateague, or that can be the primary destination.  Europe needs anniversary celebration that prompted the trip.  Picnics can perhaps be elevated to gourmet, maybe including one venue that permits wine, or having the picnic at a winery while we sip their wine.  Still some Pennsylvania water parks I've not visited.  Could wait on this and go to one of the indoor options when it is no longer suitable for outdoor soaking.  Lots of options, still in early stage.  I intend to do them all.

Storm Forecast

Did an inspection of my garden as I planted a seed shoot of eggplant next to the more sturdy eggplant purchase from the garden center.  It might take, it might not.  Sprouting has gone well.  Not quite ready for thinning.  Still want to have all 32 square foot sections planted in the coming week but have to accommodate this to the weather.  More lettuce, maybe some more beets.  Herbs all planted in containers at doorstep.  Flowers planted to my satisfaction on the deck planters built into the rail.

The weather sets its own pattern, to which I must adapt.  A successful rule has been to water with the watering can or hose if three days go by without nature's assistance, though that has not happened.  Ample hydration, including a deluge forecast later today that might force protection of some of the outdoor containers.  Real gardeners still have things to do on those days.  I have to reassemble my unused seeds, then decide what gets planted next.  One will be the second pepper plant, first sprouting in an indoor container, to go into the square foot next to the established pepper plant from the garden center.  And now that I know what is or will be planted, as well has the progress of the herb containers, perhaps it is not premature to use these rainy days to imagine menus.

Unlike a commercial gardener or farmer, the harvest may not be the most important end point.  Planning and implementation and monitoring progress and adapting to impediments seems to offer a lot more satisfaction than eating the final product.

Use It Up

As grocery prices become annoyingly high, though fortunately for me still within my means, some of the irrationality of my selections appeared.  I can no longer squeeze all the frozen items into my freezer.  With shabbos dinners made in bulk and marked down Kosher meat too good  a bargain to overlook, I will not have to add to shabbos dinner possibilities for a couple more months.  As much as I like preparing elegant meals, they are really all targeted occasions.  The rest of the suppers come from quick meals.  Fish is really nature's fast food.  They come mostly in packages of two servings.  Easy enough to thaw a tuna steak, put the other one in a freezer bag.  Vegetarian phony meat, when on sale make quick suppers as do fish sticks.  They take up room, though.  Whole chickens and turkey half breasts make multi-meals, usually shabbos or even for our rare guests but occupy a lot of freezer space.  And I have my specialties:  spinach lasagna and macaroni and cheese in the manner of Horny Hardart.  Not fast food at all, but each good for four meals, including two taking freezer space.

A request from the USPS to supply food to the local food bank took me to my pantry.  More pasta than I will use, canned beans which I will eventually use, single serve applesauce that will be there a while.  Rice and barley last indefinitely.  Packaged couscous in its various forms supplements shabbos entrees.  Baking is a pleasurable hobby, but it comes in -spurts.  Cake and brownie mixes have gone on sale faster than I can use them, so a couple of these went to the food bank.

The Iron Chef always started with an ingredient that became multitasked as a reflection of the guest chef's expertise.  I probably ought to do less shopping but have a more immediate destination for anything I get.  Apples on sale become Apple Walnut Pie.  Bricks of cream cheese at 99 cents each should become cheesecake the same week that the bricks are purchased.  Frozen vegetables become spinach lasagna before occupying excessive freezer space. I need to change my thinking from what's a good deal to be used some day to what would be a good meal before my next trip to the megamart.

Some Medical Care

Home has some hazards, more for exploring toddlers, but a few for seniors.  I've not fully healed the dorsum of my forearm which for an instant scraped a glowing oven coil  Minor nicks with kitchen knives or food processor blades are part of the adventure of making a substantial dinner.  Clutter invites falls, none causing me to seek medical care.  But a mishap with the kitchen step stool will.  I managed to put away the pan, inserting its ring into the uppermost hook, something a vertically challenged person like myself cannot do without a minor climb.  The descent did not go well, perhaps catching my foot on the lower step.  Atumbling I went, slightly stunned but not obviously injured until about a half hour later when my right ankle felt like the left one did when I fractured it not quite thirty years ago.  I could still walk on it.

Some home remedy time, naproxen, icy hot.  Minor effect.  By later in the day, I could no longer bear weight on it alone.  I could still walk.  End of the day, shoes off, to do a more formal exam.  No discoloration but some swelling.  Have no idea what the various ligaments and tarsal bones are but there was point tenderness medially.  Eversion hurt more than inversion, dorsiflexion more than plantarflexion.  Definitely a treadmill hiatus to follow.  Tossed around the idea of medical care but doubt bone fracture.  Real soft tissue injury though.  There are probably some orthopods who can figure out which ligaments have been traumatized via exam, though they are ultimately dependent on imaging.  I'm not ready for an MRI.  However, screening for fracture with an X-ray seems prudent.  

Give my doctor a call when the office opens.  Leave her the option whether to screen this herself or do the more expedient urgent care.  But medical attention seems the prudent way to go.

Still Not Logged Back In

Day 4.  I'm still not logged back in to any Social Media.  FB placed some lures via email but I didn't bite.  Reddit went from my email inbox to Spam unopened.  While the intent of my shunning Social Media has been to recoup some opportunity losses, I'm not yet certain that has happened.  Easy crosswords have become the new go-to time sink.   I would have found treadmill time anyway, because that may be the closest I get to Flow.  My gardens are mostly planted.  I've been giving better attention to really going overseas for my upcoming anniversary, though I probably would not have to carve these efforts out of  the Social Media time sink either.  Writing, which is what I really wanted to do with this time, and which I had done in the form of thoughtful responses, has not flourished at all.

What I really seem to do better are those petty chores of housekeeping, breathing outdoors air while sitting quietly on a county park bench, letting my mind wander, keeping up with the dishes, setting short amounts of fixed times to tidy my bedroom or exchange seasonal clothing, driving not very far like I did during the height of Covid-19 closures for the purpose of not being in my house at my keyboards.

The allure of logging back in and typing the contents of my mind to ho-hum readers or giving response opportunities to trolls has not entirely dissipated.  Much like ex-smokers who often describe themselves as smokers who aren't smoking now, the resistance of the default action of logging in has become part of the achievement.  And unlike the abstinent alcoholic who cannot return to drinking in a controlled way, my purposeful return has been planned in advance.  Just not yet.

Inspired, or Not

Two events on the University of Delaware main campus uplifted me far beyond the two $7 parking fees.  I received an invitation to an awards luncheon from their communications division.  For the first time in a while, I mingled, interacted, generated my own ideas, and tapped into the expertise of experts.  Then their Biden Institute, run by the President's sister, sponsored a presentation by Van Jones, most known as CNN personality who accomplished many things by pursuing a perspective different than the one to which I was scripted.  My own FB friends with the protection of distance and delayed response pummeled me for finding merit in groups on their scorn list.  If you only need to find one redeeming feature of an opponent, Van's standard, you will find it easily.  And he did.  When I take that approach, I do to.  So did King David, when he shared his success with Achitophel, who was really something of a dweeb.  He only taught the future king two things, but that was enough for favorable recognition.  And Pirke Avot doesn't even say what those two things were.  Really, in some ways an Omer message, as Rabbi Akiva's students were traditionally decimated for withholding respect.  While on campus, I felt more fully alive.  Not just the two outstanding programs, but also negotiating new experiences, finding my way, exploring some buildings, scenery, and assessing how campuses and generations function differently now. 

So, as I grapple with Languishing, there are some very good alternatives.  They are well within my capacity too.  

Did Instead

Success.  Went the whole day without opening FB or any other social media.  I got to make some comments via email for a committee question that was posed, but that's legitimated business.  And I didn't open anything other than FB either.  

While I compensate for my inattention by using a countdown timer for many tasks, I do not really know how much time was actually spending on FB et al., though the spies who log my activity do.  As I opened my email the following day, I had invitations subtle and direct telling me something was waiting for me on FB and Reddit.  One notice deleted, the other filed to Spam.

However, time is a constant.  If I am not scrolling and responding, I have to be doing something else.  I went to a park three short times, where I could relax in a breeze while my mind wanders.  Dishes all done.  Winter clothing all put away.  Laundry all done.  Mailbox repair completed once and for all.  Learned some of my next Torah portion.  Social media sinks my mind, but its absence really did not enhance my mind.  I did pleasurable stuff instead, though not taxing stuff.  At least not yet.

It remains my intent to not log on anywhere for a week, with predesignated exceptions for Mother's Day and to convey my next KevinMD article's publication when that happens.  I missed the mindlessness slightly the first day but did not take the bait to return even though it arrived promptly by algorithm.  It also remains my intent to use that alternative time on things that matter a whole lot more than touring the Metaverse.

Controlling the Social Media

Put a weeklong ban in place.  FB restricted to Mother's Day evening, which I limited, and if my article to KevinMD appears, that will be announced.  I checked in advance for birthdays.  None this week that I must acknowledge.  No Reddit, which is the site I like most.  Bari Weiss is really an echo chamber.  Let my subscription lapse, ignore this week.  Twitter long gone and not missed.  KevinMD is technically Social Media, but I have a weekly quota and there is nothing toxic about that site, though responses to posts have been pretty minimal.  A problem for Dr. Kevin to correct.  

That's new-found time.  Yesterday for Mother's Day, it got absorbed making dinner.  Today, probably some cleanup and laundry.  Getting tired of Big Screen TV in My Space.  In some ways the time sink of reading and responding has been a distraction from my twelve semi-annual projects, that excuse to do something easy or emotional instead of activities that are difficult with periods of frustration.  I will likely do the challenging stuff like writing, gardening, space upgrading, and expanding my in-person presence once I tie myself to the mast so I cannot go to Reddit instead.

Happy Mother's Day

Some dear old friends pounced on me last week finding merit in the Catholic Church, which has treated me exceptionally well despite their public baggage, now and well established for centuries.  They steadfastly oppose abortion, at least in America, though with expedient lower profiles elsewhere as their adherence shrinks here.  Even that iconic saint Mother Teresa caused some harm in India by including her Church's dogma on reproductive function while the poorest of the poor who may not have had much more pleasure available to them than their sexual gratification, got avoidable burdensome pregnancies and infectious diseases while she denied them contraceptives and infection control.  But she had her element of merit for the things she did, as did my many Catholic associates in diverse cities where I have lived.  These personable ladies, yes 100% ladies, collective scorn was for getting dealt a different chromosomal lottery outcome, one that denied me the ability to carry pregnancy, though essential to create pregnancy.  My absence of those parts apparently in the minds of dear people disqualified me from having the sensitivity that they demanded.  

As we get to Mother's Day, the universal reverence for those who reared us, the respect earned by our mostly female teachers, our daughters grown up, those nurses who didn't have full opportunity in my childhood era whose daughters have become the doctors who take care of me today, some with my input in their educational support is unshakable.  We can choose sides over the contentious issues which have arced towards better equality over time, but just as those old friends who would never have been that hostile in person want their due, the pot shots at me for my genetic destiny seem equally unwarranted, probably even factually wrong in an era where reality does not carry the respect it once did.

As empty nesters, the kids can call when they get around to it.  I make a pretty good surrogate.  Card, small gift, nice dinner with insufficient deserved complements.  Yes, people like me can appreciate reproductive dimorphism in its most generous way.  And not just on a designated Mother's Day.

Some Kitchen Time

Since I have an awards reception to attend this morning, shabbos dinner started and continues in a crock pot.  Not a whole lot of advance planning other than thawing the chicken.  Then some vegetables past their prime, sautee the chicken parts, add a can of rinsed beans, some grain this time barley, a secret blend of spices only secret due to its spontaneity and lack of record keeping, then top with some water.  High for an hour or so, then low until dinner with maybe a stirring or two en route.  Get about three dinners from this.  Cleanup not oppressive.  Go about my day.

Mother's Day Dinner takes a much different trajectory.  As empty nesters, the kids honor Mom from afar.  I provide a card, a nominal gift, and the day in the kitchen.   Without even entering the kitchen, menu and shopping completed.  Then into the kitchen where defrosting takes literally seconds to extract from the freezer but days to acquire the ability to proceed.  Need to retrieve the two recipes that reside in my cookbook collection, largely obsolete as online has become a much better way to capture a far expanded array of recipes from a far expanded array of experts and amateurs, all at virtually no cost.  Then convert kitchen sink to milchig after shabbos for culinary marathon on Mother's Day itself.  

Since the menu is dominated by baked items, the sequence of oven use matters.  Dessert first, then bread, then entree timed to be completed shortly before serving.  Baking things also requires some assembly and modern kitchen appliances have properly displaced the elbow grease of the baalaboosta.  Wine needs to go into fridge.  Salad will need so prep time.  And a visually elegant table too.  Effort for sure, but joyful effort.

Wandering Mind

Got some dear old friends from the Year Gimmel mad at me on FB for defending Catholics who I have ample personal reason to admire, irrespective of what I think of their individual doctrines and loyalties.  Absolutely true that many doctrines created at the highest hierarchical tiers generated considerable misery to innocent people.  Deicide claims persisted within my early lifetime.  Expulsions, exploitations, anti-Semitic expression in the guise of art, and plundering all got the justification of their version of Ratzon HaShem, Hebrew for the Will of God.  While there were victims, as there are victims of their gyn dogmas now, they also got their measure of internal retribution for these misdeeds.  While still the most populous identifiable sect, their monopoly ended centuries ago as Reformation defectors in large numbers were lost to Church control forever.  Parishes today have pretty wide open departure gates as those born into their religion pass through in response to adverse consequences of their doctrinal positions or repugnant behavior of their own clergy who they are first starting to toss under the bus and let the civil authorities prosecute.  There are no more Catholic theocracies outside the Vatican City State.  And as much as certain Protestant groups want to set agendas, particularly in the USA, there really aren't any Protestant national theocracies, even though the Queen of England nominally rules the Anglican church.  There once were, all long gone.

But unlike some militant Protestant sects that have absorbed a Win-Lose paradigm to their lenses, or sometimes even opt for Lose-Lose over Win-Win lest they offer you some benefit, the Catholics really have not done that.  We enjoy today polyphonic music including masses by the great composers of history, levels of art and architecture that remain destinations to see as visitors from all over the world seek their glimpse.  In America, we have eminent medical, educational, and humanitarian efforts that would not exist without Church inspiration.  For a few weeks each year, American streets and front yards appear more festive, people become more courteous than they were the previous month, people assign some of their earnings to make other people a little happier via gifts selected with them as individuals in mind, and people toss a little extra cash into the kettles while Santa hints that people ought to focus on generosity.  All this running simultaneously with what is still mass worship to the Gimme Deity and persistence of some pretty shabby treatment of targeted individuals and groups.

As I detach from my Jewish loyalty one incident at a time, creating expanding lists of Rabbis who have benefited from what is basically title inflation bestowed too often by Rabbinical Junior College, and watch for minyanim that now rarely assemble in time for the formal call to worship, the free market of religion has moved the way of other free markets.  While Social Media can and does hijack my attention, some insomnia gave my mind a chance to wander through what is religion for.  Christopher Hitchens in his God is Not Great certainly offers ample evidence that world has been poisoned in some form by most.  As American loyalty to religion and its litmus tests literally jeopardize the safety of large numbers of women and large numbers of folks outside the common sexual identifications, does vilifying people, which religions, mine and others, do as part of scripture if not practice, really serve the purpose of the communal identification that the clergy do their best to discipline?

I think not.  We also create communal norms which for Jews is limitation of diet, setting aside specific days to recapture sanctity that had lapsed while coping with the world, learning from our forebears, what they got right that we need to maintain and where we need to get better religion to reduce harm.  Our doctrines really haven't done very well.  Many of our communal norms have done exceptionally well.  There are more worthy Jewish non-profits than I can support.  Some of the modern sages continue to add elegance to our experience.  Confucian culture norms stress discipline and consistency.  It is the authoritarian religions or divisions that have poisoned the world, but where they prevail, outside Islam, it is not for very long.  

As my friends of yore ganged up on me for admiring people who I knew deserved to be admired, the shameful outcomes of religious edicts, which still exist today, are offset by the subsidiary institutions which made the world better for a lot of people.

Beans Planted

Made a few key garden decisions.  My eggplant, tomato, and pepper seeds all failed.  But failure can be salvaged, sometimes even upgraded.  Since I had to buy plants, I did five different tomato varieties, one outside the front door, each of the other four in the back corners of the backyard beds.  Bought one each of pepper and eggplant, planting each in the garden.  It had been my intent to have four of each, but instead I scaled back to two, starting one of each as another set of indoor seeds, which have sprouted reliably, then transplanting once germinated.  It was not my intent to plant green beans but I had a lot of seeds and extra squares from not having as many peppers and eggplants.  These sprout well but are difficult to thin and harvest so I only put one seed in each hole to avoid thinning.  If some don't take, I have more seeds.  That leaves me two squares of green beans totaling 18 plants.  They are difficult to harvest, with pods appearing and maturing at different times, while the Square Foot Garden pattern bunches beans rather close together.  But some invariably reach my table.

Planting timed nicely to the weather, with a useful overnight shower.  Some neglect the rest of the week so that the seeds can germinate and the transplants take root.  May be ready to start thinning the original seed plantings of beets and lettuce.  

Fewer Breakfasts Out

As I drove past the Hollywood Grill at midday, no cars occupied their parking lot.  Not paid attention before but was considering going out for breakfast my next treadmill off day.  I assumed they closed for the afternoon for maybe a memorial to an employee, as most seemed to be later in life.  Word arrived that they had closed.  At one time pre-pandemic and really more into my working years, it became a weekly destination for my day off.  I would sit at the counter, recognize other regulars, have either eggs or pancakes.  Their blueberry pancakes were the best.  The counter waitress became a fixture until she went on worker's comp, replaced by capable ladies of similar age.  Retirement and a commitment to a more stringent form of Shabbat largely eliminated that Saturday morning routine, which had really begun the last time I studied for my Board Exams.  I would take the review book to a restaurant, have breakfast, and study.  One place on my breakfast rotation folded, probably the most versatile of them.  Hollywood Grill, also on the rotation, became the staple, supplemented by a few others.  An IHOP had opened, not as good. Another place across the state line had reliable breakfasts at a competitive price, also with a counter for people like me going solo.  Another place came and went and reappeared.  Two more entered the market.  But Hollywood Grill was the yardstick.  

Retirement for me and Covid-19 for everyone else changed the trajectory of eating out for the purpose of eating out.  Some places suspended operations, lost money, and really weren't missed all that much by the consumer.  Others cut corners, as did Hollywood Grill.  The prices only rose slightly but the really skilled short order cook who knew how to make real home fries and poach eggs must have gotten laid off,  replaced by thawed home fries cut into even cubes by a factory process.  Coffee didn't seem the same.  Nor did sitting by myself at a table with plexiglass.  It was the banter between Sue the waitress and the regular customers and the few flat screens at the counter that made the experience.  All gone.  Now the restaurant has closed, to be replaced by some commercial development eventually.  And between retirement and Covid-19, the allure of a morning listening to conversation and spreading whipped butter over pancakes of better texture than I could make myself has disappeared too.

Planting

 Garden planting week.  Outdoors container herbs plus a tomato all done.  Outdoor garden seeded with cucumbers, spring onions, lettuce, beets and bok choi.  They don't have four packs of tomatoes which will add to the price as I get them individually but it also gives me the option of getting four different kinds.  And eggplants and peppers from the garden center.  Maybe do beans after all.  And more lettuce, rotated in a way that offers a more continual harvest.  And the flower planting of the deck.  All this we

ek.

Loose Ends

As that Lusty Month of May has arrived, what I will and won't do among my semiannual projects has largely declared itself but some new obligations always impose themselves along the way.  I did not expect my good deed of an auto donation to become vehicular identity theft but I need to resolve it.  I did not expect my mailbox flag to need replacement, or even that there be an option of replacing only the flag, but once done, it's done.

My Space has more stuff in it than four months ago, but sorted.  I think I can still finish it in two months.  My gardens sometimes reflect my impulsiveness, as I flooded some containers and planted parsley in a section different from what I had intended.  It can still be the garden I'd always hoped to generate.

I approached my wife with the idea of a major anniversary trip.  I think I will have to have some real tangible suggestions for this to move from an agreeable concept to something to implement closer to the time of our 45th.  Dedicating specific time to move myself from my screen to the same room as my wife could have gone better, but still a viable SMART goal.  Keeping up with monthly expenses and summaries.

Despite wanting to write the book that makes me famous, I don't seem to have the Must Do generating internally.  OLLI Committee is not going to happen this term.  I've read lots of books, far more than the three needed for a completed SMART project.  Not doing at all well in transforming my house to a place that welcomes guests.  

Biggest success, getting to treadmill goal of 30 minutes at 3.4 mph.  Taken a toll on my knees.  I need a fixed time to do this, but once started I become determined to finish each session and get a mental boost when I sit down at the end and take off the running shoes.  Been to two of three places in Maryland.  Kinda botched an opportunity to check off a third.  But there will be a third.  Technically submitted three articles if I count Medscape.  I don't really want to count Medscape, so I need to generate and submit one more.  Two months should be enough time.