In the Relentless Pursuit of Normal

What do table tennis, magic coffee cream, concealed carry permits, and toilet paper have in common? I don’t know but they all have starring roles in today’s post.
 
ping-pong-paddleDid you know Pennsylvania is the second largest gambling center in the United States? Nevada by far brings in the most revenue garnering a little over 25% of the American dollars legally wagered, but Pennsylvania casinos saw over 3.25 billion dollars (Billion with a B) cross the felts or fed into machines. With the state’s casinos on lockdown card players and slots junkies can scratch their itches easily enough with online betting and in severe moments of needed relief, calling the family around the dining room table and issuing Monopoly Money for impromptu quality time AKA blackjack. But what is the sports betting public to do. The online casino sites include sports betting but there are no sports to bet on. Or are there? Enter Russian table tennis. The mobile sports app associated with one of the area casino’s sports book operation reported 56% of last weekend’s bets were on the Table Tennis Cup matches in Moscow. On the other side of the state the same app operating for another casino saw 79% of the wagers on the cup matches. I couldn’t find a total dollar amount bet on table tennis but an internet search returned multiple pages of strategies and handicapping for betting on this week’s games. And you thought it was something played in garages by teenagers who couldn’t get dates to the prom. (Why yes, that is where and when I learned the game. And your point is?) And life becomes normal,  sort of, for the sports junkie gambler.
 
Who would have thought 1 cup of sugar, 1/3 cup of instant coffee crystals, and 2/3 cup of ice water would save the world? Would you? Perhaps not the world but certainly those on it used to starting their days with a $6 cup of sweet, creamy caffeinated goodness. Apparently you just toss the sugar and coffee with a splash of the water into a bowl and mix until everything it is wet, then start whisking like crazy while slowly adding the ice water and then keep on whisking for several to many minutes until light and fluffy. Those without Incredible Hulk like arms will probably want to use a stand mixer with a balloon whisk attachment. Sugar and water do not typically result in something with the consistency of whipped cream but that’s exactly what this concoction turns out like! Top your regular old black coffee with the stuff or blend a couple tablespoons of it with a generous portion of ice cubes and a bit of whole milk for a home version of otherwise expensive drive through frozen cappuccino and make your morning commute to the home office and/or dining room table almost normal.
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MagicCoffee
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In Pennsylvania you are required to have a concealed weapon permit to carry a gun unless you want to strap it on your hip and mosey through the streets old wild west style. By the state definition “concealed” includes transporting weapons in the car even if visible except for going to or from gun dealers, shooting ranges, or vacation homes, or to surrender the weapon at a weapons turn in location. So if you plan on ever taking that gun anywhere you better get a concealed carry permit. Permits are issued by county sherriff offices and several counties have closed their gun permit offices during The Corona Crisis. (That’s what I’m officially calling it now. If the network news can make up a name to promote impending armageddon so can I!) Anyway, the day before the the office in my county closed they issued over 200 permits to carry concealed. And it’s a good thing they did because since The Corona Crisis hit, gun sales have increased by as much as 600%. (Actually, according to the organization  Firearms Owners Against Crime, sales are up 100 to 600 percent. (Oh I hope their members are more accurate than their analytics experts.)) Why the sudden increase in gun sales and permit requests? “A lot of my friends already have it, so I kind of felt like I should get it too,” one person told a local television news reporter. And the testosterone fueled Jones Keeper Uppers are functioning just like normal. 
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tpI was at the grocery store yesterday. That’s one of the places we are allowed to go. Grocery store, pharmacy,  medical appointments,  and out for walks or exercise as long as we maintain the now normal social distance.  That is unless you are an essential employee at an essential business in which case you can go out to get to and from there. Low and behold, there was toilet paper! Enough options that toilet paper math wasn’t out of the question. As I sauntered through the store with my freshly wiped down cart I noticed all the shelves had something on them. Well, almost all. There was milk, bread, eggs, fresh and canned meats and fish, fresh produce, frozen foods, beans, flour and other baking needs and soap, alcohol, and other cleaning products. Everything except the always unavailable hand sanitizer. And rice. Of all the different types of rice in all the different types of packages there were none to be found. All I could think was that some family is going to be awfully tired of stir fries by September. And just like that, even as the supply of toilet paper seems to be normalizing, hoarding has gotten it’s new normal.
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Although my normal lifestyle can be confused with self-isolation and social distancing even I now get bored a little faster and miss stopping to chat with fellow walkers around the complex. I know it is not going to be in the next few weeks but I’d bet we’ll be back to our normal normal sooner than we think. At least I would bet if I knew how to use one of those mobile sports betting apps. I would also bet that as soon as the normal normal becomes normal again, six dollar frozen coffee drinks will be back to being the normal caffeine of choice on normal commutes. I’m willing to wager many of those carry permits never share pocket space with what the permit permits carrying and someday rice will again fill the rice and grains aisles but it will never replace the paper products aisle and toilet paper math for shopping fun for the whole family! (Yes, that is one of my favorite posts.)
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Now go wash your hands!
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Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

I had my transplant evaluation appointment today. This post won’t be about that. I’ll chronicle that next step of the journey in my next post. Today I want to talk about paper. Everywhere I went today, there was paper.

Years ago when I was working in the hospital we were promised that a paperless environment was on its way. In fact, I think they might have been planning that when I was in college. The first time. In the 1970s. They ain’t got there yet. They’re trying. Really, I do believe that. But I think they are fighting a really big uphill battle.

It’s an accountability thing. When I was still working, many of our suppliers used paperless invoicing. Anything you needed to know you could get from their partner sites on line. Yet whenever we would receive anything from a supplier, the contracted delivery service had their copy, in duplicate, and we had to make 3 copies of each invoice for our records. Corporate, hospital, and department each got its own copy. Everyone looked out for himself.

That extends to patient records. Today I electronically reviewed then signed the authorization to treat, release of records, and informed consent forms. After the ceremonial signing, they printed off two copies of each form. One for me, one for the paper file to go along with that electronic copy. Each department that I visited, which had received an advanced electronic order of whatever test was to be performed, printed a copy for me to pass on to the technician who would perform the test who then scanned the order that was previously printed from the computer system back into the computer system upon completion of the test verifying the test had been completed.

Receipt

Yes, that is a 16 inch ruler. No, I don’t remember where I got it.

This paper hanging is not peculiar just to health care. Stop for a late lunch on the way home and count on the waiter, who would enter the order on an electronic tablet, to bring two copies of the check at the end of meal just in case you want to pay by card, and then two more if you actually do.

My final stop was at the supermarket for a handful of items. It’s a store I regularly use and my email address is on file there. I randomly receive electronic coupons and when I check out I am offered the choice of a printed or emailed receipt. I always go for the email version because stores receipts have become the length of War and Peace. They include the purchased items, any discount on those items by way of weekly sales, deductions made due to coupons or loyalty rewards, progress towards those rewards, surveys, upcoming specials, and of course the store name, address, phone and hours. Just in case you forgot where you were shopping I suppose. Whether you elect paper or e-receipt you get printed versions of the coupons that had recently been emailed. Today, the clerk failed to ask how I wanted my receipt and just printed it off. All 21 inches, 3-1/4 inches which actually reflected my purchases. (Yes, in fact, I did measure it.) (Because I have that kind of time, that’s why.) (I’ve told you that before.)

So, the next time somebody mentions the paperless office, you know what the real score is. But please, feel free to print this missive for later reading if you want. You’ll be in good company.

 

 

 

 

Sunday Funday

Now that football season has started I must be more selective about shopping days. The local college fans aren’t so bad, but I have to remember, don’t go to the store on Sunday before a football game. Those people are nuts!

The closer to kick off the more desperate the die-hard fans are to get their share of the game goodies home to the buffet before the rest of the tailgaters get there. Buffet might be a bit ambitious.

These folks have carts with nothing but nuts, chips, salsa, pretzels, those pre-arranged shrimp rings, football shaped chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes decorated in team colors icing, pre-cubed cheese, and sausage. Lots and lots of sausage.

And they don’t wear clothes. Not real clothes. The women are wearing halter tops, and short shorts, and things that wouldn’t pass as cover ups at the pool. Men have shorts, team logo baseball caps, flip flops, and replica jerseys. Everything is color coordinated to the home team and everybody wears sunglasses.  It is October isn’t it? Now, to be fair about it and so you don’t think that I live in a town filled with chauvinistic stereotypes, I did see one couple that she was the one dressed in a jersey and he in a muscle shirt which could be the male version of the halter.

If I had shopped with a list on Friday I wouldn’t have even been in the store on a weekend. But I didn’t and if I wanted breakfast this morning I had to run in for eggs. I thought I was going to be in trouble when I got inside the door and there were no shopping carts. Just needing a dozen eggs meant I didn’t have to have a cart but it was significant that there were none to be had because the parking lot wasn’t particularly full. That meant that each couple in the store had two carts. One for the aforementioned munchies and one for the beer.

It was also significant in that grocery stores always site the dairy section in the complete opposite corner of the store from the entrance. In order to get to those eggs I was going to have to do my impression of a running back picking his way through the line looking for that opening that will lead me to my goal. Once I made it to the egg case I had to tuck that carton in like I was protecting the ball as I turned for open field and bolted for the checkout lines.

Ah the checkout lines. Never get behind people wearing replica football jerseys in the self-service checkout line. Picture the conversation between the referee and a head coach who did not get the call go his way after a lengthy replay timeout. That would be mild compared to the discussion between pseudo-quarterback and the electronic cashier’s disembodied (and dispassionate) voice. In fact, I should remove those parentheses because I think it was the repetitive “please remove all items from the belt and try again” in the calm, dispassionate tone that had him really riled.

Eventually I got myself home with my dozen chicken eggs and a proper breakfast will be had. I have a feeling that a lot of my fellow shoppers will be having aspirin and lots of black coffee for their morning meals today.

Boy am I glad that we hockey fans aren’t like that.

 

Nickel and Diming the Penny Pinchers

I didn’t believe it. There was no reason to doubt her, but when my daughter told me there is a difference in English muffin prices I didn’t believe her.

Specifically, we were talking about Thomas’ English Muffins in your basic grocery six pack, the goto English muffin for both of us. When we feel like splurging. C’mon! Thomas’ are expensive for just a little something extra when you don’t want plain toast for breakfast. I found a store brand that was mighty tasty for less than half what the Thomas brand runs in our neck of the woods. Over two dollars less. “In fact,” I said, “They’re two and a quarter cheaper.” And that started it.

She explained to me that what I found was indeed $2.25 less than the PLAIN Thomas muffin. (In fact, it was $2.27 but why quibble over a couple pennies when so many countries are no longer even minting penny equivalents of their coinage. I’m still not sure why the American monetary police insist on continuing to print $1 bills, the paper equivalent of useless money. But, that’s a different post for a different day.) I tried to beg to differ but you can’t beg in front if your own child so I just differed with a simple “Nuh uh.”

She went on to say she was certain the wheat, raisin, oat bran, super duty extra protein, and seasonal limited editions are all increasingly increasing in suggested retail prices (that for grocery stores is the retail price or why have door buster savings every week?) ranging from $4.26 for plain to $5 and change for double protein. I still resisted based on the logic that all of my Cheapo Brand Muffin were $1.99 across the board from normal to off brand bran. Since it wasn’t greatly affecting my savings or her inheritance we left it as a supermarket curiosity. One of millions down every aisle.

You know I couldn’t leave it there though, could I. No. If I did, we’d have no post today. So the next time I was at the store I wandered down the English muffin aisle, and I didn’t even need English muffins. (Talk about being dedicated to my blog readers.) I find my bargain basement brand right there on the bottom shelf where all off brands belong, each iteration bearing the shelf tag $1.99. Above them, strategically placed at eye level was the Thomas English Muffin lineup. And under the plain muffin was the shelf tag with the not on sale price of $4.26. And next to those, the wheat muffins priced at $4.28, and so on to the Double Oatmeal Protein at $5.38. Who would have thought it?

While I was there, I thought I’d treat myself and pick up a pack of the cheapos. Wheat. If I was going to save I may as well splurge on it. Or whatever is the word for when you intentionally save more. The next morning I was preparing breakfast and thought I deserved more than toast and reached for an English muffin. Even though I still had a couple of plain muffins I opted for wheat and cracked open the new package. Take that Thomas muffin people! Try and gouge me just because I want wheat. I don’t think so!

As I was splitting it I had that feeling that something wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. Not the feeling. The muffin. It seemed to not fit my hand right. It felt … small. I shrugged it off and continued splitting. I dropped the halves into the toaster and turned to tend to—- Wait! The toaster! Those are really low in the toaster. What’s wrong with the toaster? Yes, you got it. There was nothing wrong with the toaster. It was that muffin. That blasted, small muffin.

I took out another wheat muffin and one of my remaining plain guys.

Muffins

Side by side there was no mistaking it. The wheat muffin was smaller. And judging by how much, I’d say more than two cents worth smaller.

I feel so violated.