A Boca CVS Story

Yesterday my mom happened to be in the vicinity of the CVS at the corner of Powerline and Palmetto Park Road, where she stopped to pick up a pack of cigarettes for my father, and told this story of her time there.

While standing in a long line at the register, she was befriended by a man standing behind her whom she describes as "friendly, distinguished-looking" and "obviously wealthy."  They conversed while inching up toward the register. When her turn at the counter came, she asked the cashier for a pack of Salem cigarettes, and the man said to her, "I wouldn't have been so nice to you if I had known you were buying cigarettes."  Further engaging this fool, she tried to salvage what had been a pleasant exchange by saying that they were not for her. The cashier then chimed in, saying, "But you are an enabler!"

So, is this what it's come to? People who practice habits or buy products that others find objectionable now must expect to be berated by complete strangers?  Even if the disliked action is practiced in private, is perfectly legal, and while unhealthy is not immoral, total strangers believe that it is acceptable not only to object to the activity, but also to withhold kindness from those who do? Is this what has happened? And not only that, but the cashier employed by the business selling the product, the profits from which contribute to her wage and therefore livelihood, also believes that while on the clock, it is appropriate to chastise the customer who is buying that product? What is happening here?

If the cashier had half a brain in her head, she would of course realize that she is more of an enabler than my mother since my mother enables only one smoker, my father, while the cashier--in passing the evil  packs of cigarettes across the counter multiple times per shift--enables hundreds and maybe even thousands of smokers over her months and years of employment. If the cashier truly were opposed to smoking on moral grounds (or any other grounds), she would not consent to work for an enterprise that sells cigarettes. Alas, however, she doesn't care that much, does she? 

And what of the distinguished man in line, who having struck up a conversation with my mom, then informed her that because of the cigarettes, she was no longer worthy of his niceness? He evidently considers his small-talk so valuable that it shall not be conferred upon any human who does not conform to his beliefs and ways of living. A briefer way of describing such a person is: a pompous ass.

I bear responsibility for this event, too.  You see, my dad rolls his own, but often makes a tobacco mess at my house in doing so. Since my folks are visiting only for the weekend, I asked if he could leave his can of tobacco and sheaf of papers behind and just bring some pre-rolled cigarettes instead.  I feel really bad about this now, because of the negative experience my mom had at CVS, although in her characteristically charitable and optimistic way she found it funny, and not annoying as I do. Next visit, I'll welcome the Bugler or Top tobacco mess, break out the vacuum and not say a word about it.

Though I'm not a big CVS shopper anyway, I can now cross this store permanently off my list.  After all, I wouldn't want to be an enabler . . .

What I'm Reading Now

A few nights ago on PBS, I came across (sadly, halfway into it) a BBC documentary about Hugh Everett III, called "Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives."  Everett's son is a musician and the only surviving family member available to manage Everett's papers and legacy.  Everett is credited with creating the many-worlds interpretation to solve a problem in quantum mechanics, but was not appreciated during the fifties when he wrote this theory. He died shortly after he was beginning to be recognized and appreciated for his work, and never lived to experience the respect he is now accorded by many scientists. 

Anyway, this revived my interest in quantum mechanics which I half began reading about 3 summers ago when I read a Brian Greene book and a book by Amit Goswami called The Conscious Universe.  I was so taken with the spooky quantum effects I learned about, as I was able to understand them in my limited way, and still am interested. So I read the NYT review of Quantum by Manjit Kumar, and with a good friend's BN discount card in  hand, bought the store's only copy last night and began reading.  Right now, I am learning about Max Planck and the blackbody experiment. Stay tuned.

A Good Buy at a Corporate Restaurant

After my doctor-prescribed 1 hour walk last night (in the mall because of the recent heat), my friend and I cast about for a place to eat nearby, and settled on Chang's. Despite the ghost-town feel of the mall and then the empty tables at McCormick's & Alexander's at University Commons, a table at P.F. Chang's we were told would mean a 15-20 minute wait, with no empty seats in either the bar or vestibule, so we turned back to Alexander's. Its dark, wood-toned  interior is not a favorite of mine, nor is the heavy food, but since I wasn't paying, I decided to make the best of it, and with careful menu scrutiny, succeeded.

My complaints with J. Alexander's are these: if you want any protein at all, minus a burger, say, or a chicken sandwich, it's going to be a huge helping and well over $20. No small steaks here, at dinner anyway (until 4 the restaurant offers what it calls "lunch cuts"), and the appetizers last night at least were carb-based. The salads are nice, but I've never been much for these monster salads topped with a pile of sliced chicken or steak.  Salad is salad, and the protein course is the protein course. The restaurant also offers few wines by the glass. I settled on an $8 glass of Santa Ema Merlot, a few bottles of which I've bought before from Total Wine, but which last night seemed much higher in alcohol than I remembered. It was too jammy and too hot last night, but possibly was the wrong wine with my food, turning now at last to the good part of the meal, and my recommendation.

At dinner, you can get a soup and salad for $13 at J. Alexander's, portioned generously enough to create a meal. Two soups were offered last night, a Chicken Pasta (listed on the menu) and the chef's soup of the day, which the server identified. Last night's offering, and my choice,  was Chef's Gumbo, which arrived in a large white bowl topped with a mound of brown rice to stir into the thick, brown, roux-based gumbo.  The gumbo offered small bites of sausage, shrimp, and chicken, along with garlic, green pepper and lots of spicy flavor.  Then followed my salad. For the soup & salad $13 deal, you can order either the house salad, called "Alex's Salad" (mixed greens and, alas, some iceberg; halved cherry tomatoes, bacon, garlic croutons, cucumbers, and shredded cheddar), or the Caesar.  I opted for Alex's and was happy with this choice. The waitress seemed to be pushing the herb vinaigrette, but I ordered the cilantro vinaigrette, and liked it. According to the menu, all of the dressings are made in the restaurant, which is nice. (If I'm going to be served a Sysco salad dressing, what's the point of eating out? I would rather save myself some money and buy a bottle of Kraft or something and eat at home.)  Following this meal of soup and salad, I was satisfied, and felt that at this chain restaurant, I'd had a reasonably healthy meal at, especially considering it was Boca, a great price.

So, if you get stuck at Alexander's and don't feel like a huge steak or burger, and don't feel like spending a lot of dough, go for this $13 soup and salad deal. It's a nice little hidden value buried in a menu of big prices and large servings.

Feeling Better for Real

Last week I felt better between Sunday and Tuesday, and then collapsed in fatigue Wednesday-Friday, so when this latest stretch of feeling better hit, I wasn't sure that it was here for good--but it seems to be that it is--and for that I am so grateful. I'm sure that some couch time still lies ahead, but for now I feel stronger and more energetic than I've felt up to now. I need to walk again today, longer and farther, and figure out how I can best use these alone days. Need to go to the post office and run a few other errands, but won't push it.

Pirate Party

Having spent the last 11 days with my mom gave occasion for some odd exchanges, such as this one.

I told her that my sister and niece were on their way to a retirement party, and my mom said, "Oh, is it a birthday party?" and I said, "No," more emphatically this time, "a retirement party."  Just then, I thought, "what did she think I said?" to which my mom said, as if in reply, without missing a beat, "I thought you said they were going to a pirate party."

"Oh," I said, realizing that if she was having trouble hearing me these days, she was at least making up for it in the mind-reading department.  Ahoy, matey.

Nicholas Payton Quintet

My first outing (not including post-op checkups at the doctor's office) in the past 10 days, was to the always-beautiful Miniachi Performing Arts Center to hear the South Florida Jazz Society's last concert of the year, which featured The Nicholas Payton Quintet. My son is the musician, not me, and I'm not qualified to write a bona fide jazz review, but I did enjoy show. Mr. Payton got right down to work, speaking not a word until just before intermission when he quickly introduced his band, and then announced the "short break," which I'm sure would have been shorter if not for the long line of people waiting to buy bottled water, beer and wine in the lobby. But no matter. We all needed a leg stretch (practically everyone in the audience cleared out for the intermission), and the balmy night felt good, even among the smokers outside.

I was surprised (though glad in a way, as I had no cash on me) that Payton did not bring any cd's to sell as most acts do there. My son has bought, and had autographed, a few cds from our other concert visits. My main regret about this show is that the pieces were not introduced or identified. I would have liked to know who composed them, and even their titles. The penultimate number--which Payton sang--sounded like a Dixieland Jazz standard, but I couldn't be sure. My other small complaint is that the way the stage was set up made it impossible (for us at least, second row center) to see Lawrence Fields' hands on either keyboard or acoustic piano. The placement of the Fender Rhodes keyboard hid his handwork on both instruments. We got clear views, however, of bassist Ben Williams, drummer Corey Fonville (both of whom are really fun to watch) and Daniel Sadownick on percussion. Payton faced the audience from center stage, meaning that we were staring into his trumpet bell as he played, which was a different experience than when we saw, for instance, Randy Brecker, who positioned himself at an angle and off-center so that his finger-work was easy to see.

This is nit-picking, though, you know. The concert was fabulous. These guys play perfectly together-- are always looking at and listening to each other, and because there's not much talking from the stage, we really got our money's worth musically-speaking. Finally, the encore was not gratuitous or throwaway, the way some encores can be--it was possibly the highlight of the show, delivered with energy and power. Kudos to the South Florida Jazz Society for bringing his fine quintet to our hot little corner of the world here. It's going to be a long stretch until November when the next concert series begins again.

Post-Surgery Post

I am starting to feel, for the first time, normal again, although who knows how long this will last, since a few days already this week, I felt well on arising, and then sick later.  I will nevertheless feel grateful for this good/normal-ish feeling for as long as it lasts considering how rotten I was feeling before.

It would be nice if this were my last surgery ever.  I have hospital stories, a few perhaps even funny, but I don't feel like telling them now. The main thing now is that I feel as if I am pulling myself up out of some sticky ooze, seeing daylight and the world around, watching the sludge slip off of my arms, down my fingers and thinking, "OK now, what's the first thing I need to do, and the second?"

Having the help of family and friends was everything, though honestly it was my mom who really did the most (numerous Publix shopping runs, and dishwasher cycles, and laundry loads), mostly in shuttling N. and getting him ready for camp (UPS comes Wednesday to pick up the trunk & suitcase).  And here she's just left and I didn't at all convey to her what I'd hoped to. But I will.  

Out for now.