Afternoon blogging has become the norm. I don’t like this norm; we’ll see if I can change it tomorrow. I am making progress nesting, but I’m still not fully adjusted to life here.
Yesterday I made my first foray to Stop & Shop since the move. I was going to go to the one by Co-op City, but Mike P commented on a previous post of mine. He too is new to the neighborhood and when he decided to go to Stop & Shop went to one on Broadway. I did a search and found it, it’s considerably closer. I can get there in less than half an hour, I went for it.
I had several one bus options and chose the one that got me there the soonest. That might not have been the best idea. There is an escarpment between Norwood and Broadway that I was unaware of. The bus I took left me at the top of the escarpment and I had to take a stair to the bottom. I missed it the first time and walked quite a bit out of the way and had to backtrack. It was hot and humid.
I did get there, the store is not as large or well stocked as the one I’m used to, but it had most of what I needed, most importantly ice cream. I intend for ice cream to dominate my diet till the heatwave passes.
I cooked dinner again. I’m getting better. This time I made a ham steak and baked potato. Garlic naan was on sale and I had that with dinner. I heated it in the toaster over while I baked the potato in the microwave. Guess what happened; I blew a fuse. I’ve never lived someplace where that kind of thing was an issue. I have not changed a fuse since I was a little kid when the fuse box was replaced by circuit breakers. I didn’t know that fuse boxes were still up to fire code. My father taught me this kind of thing from birth, so I knew what to do but there were challenges. First finding the fuse box. I knew where it was, but it was hidden behind things. That meant clearing off much of what was on a shelf. That required a step ladder. Then the fuse box had been painted shut. I had to figure out how to open it. I got a screwdriver and tried to pry it open but could not get a good enough purchase. Then I put it through the ring to pull it open and used it as a lever.
I had no trouble figuring out which fuse blew or finding one with the same rating to replace it. I screwed it in, nothing happened. I pulled another fuse and lights went off. I put it back in and the lights went back on. I texted Beruthiel’s son and asked what was going on. He said that I had to screw it in real tight. He was right. The fuse that blew required a lot more force than the other one I tested. I’m always afraid of forcing; it’s a good one to break things.
I celebrated by following dinner with a hot fudge sundae. If I had failed I’d have commiserated with a hot fudge sundae, except I couldn’t as the microwave wouldn’t work, and I would avoid opening the freezer.
When I was eating brunch yesterday I started to watch Heathers on Netflix. I didn’t intend to watch the entire thing but once I started I was hooked. That’s one of my touchstone films. Films centered on high schools were big I the 80s but for the most part I didn’t like them; I never cared for John Hughes and Fast Times at Ridgemont High was so awful Phoebe Cates couldn’t redeem it. Ray Walston was the best thing in it. But Heathers was different, it is a classic of black comedy. If someone asked me to define black comedy, I’d say a film like Heathers. I still find myself quoting it. When it came to one of my favorite exchanges:
Father: Why do I read spy novels?
Veronika: Because you’re an idiot
Father: That’s right.
Mom: Oh, you two.
I called Carey. We saw the film together and often went through that. I was disheartened that he didn’t remember where that was from. Then we talked about the line, “He’s old, he’s 41.” I thought it was “I’m old, very old, I’m ___.” He said it was from War Games. I said it couldn’t be because I never saw it. I did know that he saw it with Ira and they talked about it quite a bit. Perhaps I picked it up from them. He googled and found the quote was from War Games. Then just as I put in the blockquote tag it hit me. The line I knew, and was the one we quoted, was, “I’m old, I’m very old, I’m 73.” It’s from the George Romero brilliant but little-known vampire flick, Martin. That means I had to take a break from writing and call Carey. I have such an inconsistent memory, people are amazed at the details I can remember from decades ago and that I can’t remember things they just told me. I know we are all like that to some degree, but people are always taken aback by my accurate memories from 40 or more years ago. Just don’t ask me song lyrics.
I should read the time sensitive email I’m afraid to read, change the cat litter, and run to the store. Will I? You’ll find out tomorrow.
Wise Madness 