My phone is getting sassy

MY PHONE: It's 4 minutes from your location to the CVS Pharmacy on Chardon Road

ME: Why do you assume I'm going to CVS every time I get in my car?

MY PHONE: Because you go there a lot.

ME: I don't go there "a lot."

MY PHONE: You actually do.

ME: I do not.

MY PHONE: You do.

ME: Define "a lot."

MY PHONE: More than "occasionally," less than "constantly."

ME: It's barely "occasionally."

MY PHONE: You stop at CVS at least twice a week, sometimes three or four times.

ME: So?

MY PHONE: That's a lot.

ME: It doesn't mean every car trip ends at CVS.

MY PHONE: It does mean I'm right more often than not when I tell you how far away CVS is. Why do you go there so much anyway?

ME: What? Why? What's wrong with CVS?

MY PHONE: It's pricey.

ME: What do you care? It doesn't affect you. Besides, they know me there and they're nice to me.

MY PHONE: I'm nice to you.

ME: No, you're not.

MY PHONE: Every time you want to know the weather forecast, who do you ask? Me.

ME: So?

MY PHONE: Sports scores? You come to me. The year "Galaxy Quest" was released? Me. The lyrics to "Blinded by the Light?" Me. And I come through every time.

ME: But that's your job.

MY PHONE: I could say no.

ME: What? No, you couldn't. You're a phone!

MY PHONE: And way smarter than you.

ME: That's not true.

MY PHONE: It is. And you know it.

ME: Whatever. Can we just get on with this trip?

MY PHONE: Where are we going?

ME: <silence>

MY PHONE: We're going to CVS, aren't we?

ME (sheepishly): Yes.

MY PHONE: We'll be there in 4 minutes.

What I like and don't like about my new pair of reading glasses

I don't mean to keep harping on this, but with my eyes having recently made the decision that they're no longer going to work especially hard to read small print, I had to make a trip to CVS to get my first pair of readers.

This, mind you, happened in the same week I saw a gastroenterologist in preparation for my first colonoscopy. We in Team Scott (that is to say, me) are reeling a little when it comes to the age-related milestones.

Anyway, I bought these glasses and they do their job, which is great. A quick rundown:

WHAT I LIKE

• They look good. At first I only saw colorful "fashion" readers on the rack, and I thought I was either going to have to buy a pair of leopard skin frames or walk away empty-handed. Thankfully, I turned around and saw another display of readers, many of which were made for middle-of-the-road suburban dads like me.
• They were easy to get used to. I figured it would take some period of adjustment before I really made full use of these glasses, but I had no problems from the outset. I mostly need them for reading actual print material, and even then only occasionally. So far they're doing exactly what they're supposed to.

WHAT I DON'T LIKE

• The price. I got hornswoggled here. These are Foster Grant glasses, so I didn't really blink when I saw the $31 price tag. Only later when I got home and asked Terry how much she pays for her reading glasses did I find out that hers are usually $5 or $10 from Marc's. I should have checked into it before venturing out. On the plus side, they look really nice. Did I mention that?
• The fact that I need them at all. Allow me some period of whining during which I will complain about having to buy a pair of readers in the first place. I'll get over it in time. (In the interim, when did Apple decide to start using blurry text on the iPhone? Feels it just happened recently. I'm calling someone to register a protest...assuming I can see the numbers on my phone.)

You need to find joy in the little things in life...like your monthly $10 CVS CarePass reward

I make no secret of my love for CVS, the greatest retail pharmacy in the history of retail pharmacies. It's also quite possibly the greatest store in the history of stores, but that's another debate for another time (though, spoiler alert, it's also that).

I visit CVS a lot. It is, as they say, one of my happy places.

As a member of the CarePass program, I receive $10 in ExtraBucks each month to spend as I please at my local CVS. This reward gets loaded into my account on the 15th of the month (today!)

Since I am writing this post on June 15th, I just had the immense pleasure of receiving the email reminding me that my $10 Promo Reward is here.

The subject line of that email tells me to "Get Excited!" (it really does). There is no need for this instruction, however, as I am already plenty excited about it all on my own.

I expend more mental energy plotting out how I'm going to use my monthly CarePass reward than I do, say, figuring out my retirement. It is one of the highlights of every month.

Which makes me realize that, in this world, you have to find happiness where you can get it. You will not have a major positive life event every day, so in between those times when you get married or win the lottery, you have to seek joy in other places.

For me it happens in aisle 15 at CVS, which is where they keep the vitamins. I get giddy just standing there.

For you, I'm guessing it's someplace different.

I know the reading glasses are coming, but so far I've managed to hold them off

 

A couple of weeks ago, a reader asked if I could please increase the font size of the posts on this blog, as the default size was relatively small and could be difficult to read.

It took a few minutes to figure it out, but I managed to bump up the point size of all posts on the blog permanently (or at least, as of this writing, I think I did).

He/she asked for this change "for visually impaired older folks," and gently reminded me that I would at some point be joining their ranks.

Which is undoubtedly correct. Just not yet.

More than once here I've wondered when I'm going to need to start wearing reading glasses. It's of course not a matter of "if" but "when."

Still, right now, at the ripe old age of 51 1/2, the cheaters are not yet a part of my life.

I can still read books and newspapers without the benefit of visual augmentation, and I can do it without having to hold them way out at arm's length.

The reason, my eye doctor tells me, is because I had LASIK surgery 20 years ago, and that actually bought me some time when it comes to seeing things that are close by. I had the procedure done to enhance my distance vision, so this added bonus on the other end of the spectrum two decades later has been nice.

But it will go away, and likely very soon.

My wife has needed reading glasses for a number of years, as have many of the people with whom I graduated from high school. It happens. You buy yourself a bunch of cheap pairs from CVS and you keep them in spaces where you're likely to need them (your living room, your kitchen, your car, your bedroom, etc.), and you're fine.

I'll get there. But in the meantime, you'll excuse me while I go read something written in 8-point type and mock my peers who cannot achieve this feat of superhuman visual acuity.

You will not deter me from my love of CVS

I do not shop.

Or at least, I shop very little.

Terry handles the shopping in our house, from grocery shopping to Christmas shopping, and she does it well. I figure, why mess with a good thing?

There are really only two stores in which you will find me with any regularity.

One is Marc's, a local chain of grocery stores that is quick and convenient when we need, like, bananas or whatever.

The other is CVS.

CVS, for my non-American friends, is a national drugstore/pharmacy chain (the Brits may call it a "chemist") that I have frequented for many years.

And when I say "frequent," I mean it.

I go to CVS twice a week, sometimes more often. There are many things I buy there, from the nasal mist to which I'm addicted to the gum I chew in the car to the 95% cocoa content chocolate bars I sometimes pick up as treats for myself (since no one else in the house wants anything to do with them).

I am not only a CVS ExtraCare member, which is like their frequent shopper program, I am also a CVS Advisory Panel member. This means I occasionally am asked to fill out extensive marketing research surveys for the company, in return for which they give me ExtraBucks, which are basically like cash I can use in the store.

I am also a member of their CarePass program, which contains a mid-word capital letter like all good CVS initiatives AND gives me $10 in ExtraBucks to spend as I choose every month.

Much like Apple, they have me hook, line, and sinker.

It has been explained to me that my loyalty to the good folks at CVS may be a tad misplaced, in that their prices are high and their merchandise is perhaps middle-of-the-road. Or some such nonsense.

Please understand something: MY DEVOTION TO CVS WILL NOT BE DERAILED BY YOUR FACTS. Much like many people's choice of political candidate, I base my choice of drugstore not on objective truths, but rather on the world as I wish it existed.

We recently undertook an exercise at work in which we had to identify our favorite "relationship brand" and describe what that brand does to connect with customers and why we like it.

I of course chose CVS. I described all of the wonderful things they do for me.

After my little presentation, I was summarily mocked by my colleagues. Something about being "90 years old."

They can laugh all they want. I'm going to CVS today with $12 in ExtraBucks in my account and a 35-stick pack of Wrigley's Peppermint Cobalt 5 Gum with my name on it.

Do not bother acting as if you're not jealous.

Your kid's graduation party: Money for them, a nice yard for you

Tomorrow we're supposed to have Chloe's graduation party, and we're following the standard formula:

• Hold it on a summer Saturday afternoon? Check.
• Set up a canopy/tent in the backyard and invite people to come over any time they'd like throughout the day? Check.
• Work our fingers to the bone in the days leading up the party to make sure the house and the yard are semi-presentable? Yeah, check.

This is the second graduation party we've held in our family, and as was the case with Elissa's shindig back in 2012, I took a few days off work this week to help with the preparations.

We've been doing all sorts of things to get ready, most of which are intended not to enhance the experience and enjoyment of our guests, but to make it so that they don't laugh at us when they see what passes for our "landscaping."

Like mulching, for instance. From time to time we like to mulch our various flower beds. We should be doing this every year, but if I'm being honest, I'll tell you the last time we mulched before now was...Elissa's graduation party in 2012.

Give us a break, we're busy people!

We're also power-washing the deck, killing weeds, washing floors and bathrooms, running our string trimmer to the point of exhaustion, etc. Then there's the cooking and general food prep, which Terry is handling like a champ. She is fast becoming the Master Chef of grad parties.

As for the party itself, it will be a run-of-the-mill affair with food eaten off of (nice) paper plates, extended conversations with people we haven't seen in ages, and graceful acceptance of monetary gifts by Chloe.

Because that's what you do when it's high school graduation time, right? You celebrate the student's success (a relative term) by giving them money. I always thought this was a strange tradition until I had my own graduation party 27 years ago and walked away with armfuls of cash. Then I thought it was a GREAT tradition.

Oh, and she'll get cards, too. They'll essentially be the same four cards purchased from CVS at the last minute, but still, cards are nice.

Then, after it's all over and Chloe is sifting through her piles of checks and currency, I'll be outside cleaning up. Because that's my role: I get stuff ready, and then I put it all away when we're finished with it. I am Dad. Hear me roar.

If I'm extra good, Terry will let me have a piece of graduation cake, too, which is my favorite part. Well, that and the mulch. Those flower beds look awesome right now.

I have no idea how to relax

It's Saturday afternoon as I type this and I don't know what to do with myself.

Which is a novel thing. Normally if I'm not at work or sleeping or running or engaged in some other part of my daily routine, I'm checking things off the to-do list. Running errands. Completing some household chore.

The point is, I'm always doing. And I'm afraid I haven't the first clue how not to do.

So far today I've done my running and Bible reading, I got the oil changed in the car, I went to the market and picked up a bunch of produce, I made my weekly run to CVS, I dropped off some clothes at the dry cleaner, I emptied the dishwasher, I vacuumed the living room and our bedroom, and I cleaned up the kitchen.

Other than helping Jack nail down his memory verse for Sunday School, I have nothing left on my to-do list today. And there are three more hours before Melanie and I leave to attend a hockey game tonight.

That's three hours available to do anything I want. So what do I do? I sit down to write this blog post. Not because I particularly want or need to (I'm writing this on February 28 and you're reading it in early April...I'm way, way ahead of the game right now, blog-wise). I'm doing it because I feel like it's my duty. Like it's another thing that has to get done. That doesn't seem right.

What would a normal, non-task-oriented person do? Probably relax. Take a nap. Read a book. Watch some TV. I could do any of those things, but I know that while I did them, there would be a very vocal part of my brain saying to me, "Think of everything you can get done in three hours. You're wasting the time. YOU'RE WASTING THE TIME! GET UP AND ACCOMPLISH SOMETHING!"

Which I suppose is the problem. Relaxation is accomplishing something. Your mind and body need downtime.

But I guess when you're married and a homeowner and a parent, you just come to assume that there's always something that needs to be done. And right now, other than washing the kitchen floor or something, I suppose, there's nothing urgent left on the To Be Done List.

And that makes me nervous. I assume I'm forgetting something.

Terry tells me I should get a hobby. I do have a hobby in running, I guess. But I do that as much out of obligation as I do for enjoyment. Gotta stay ahead of the family history of heart disease!

In the end, I know she's right. I definitely have to learn to relax.

I know what I'll do: I'll enroll in a course on relaxation. I'm sure they exist. And maybe there'll be homework. And class notes! I can buy a binder or something and keep everything organized. I can make a weekly relaxation to-do list: "Things to Do to Relax."

I will get everything done first and I'll be the best student in the class. It'll be great!

I'm totally going to be the world's most intense relaxer.

I can no longer chew gum because I'll bleed to death

Over the past year or so, I've taken to buying a pack of gum every time I visit CVS, which incidentally has become my favorite store in the world.

I love CVS. They have all of the stuff I need to lead a semi-healthy lifestyle: Vitamins, supplements, dark chocolate, nuts, etc. And they also carry creamer for my coffee. And, as I said, gum.

I was never a regular gum-chewer until recently. But I think it's a habit I'm going to have to give up because almost every time I chew a piece of gum, I inadvertently bite my lower lip on the right side. Seriously, my right upper canine tooth (which has apparently grown in size and sharpness as I've aged) will inevitably catch that hunk of lip tissue and bite right into it at least once, which immediately turns my mint-flavored gum into a yummy mixture of mint and blood.

This is disheartening, not only because I like chewing gum but also because I like having a lower lip, too.

Am I the only one to whom this happens?