Welcome to Hack Mule Notebook #12! Finally turned a corner this week with my broken arm situation—got the soft cast off and started driving again. Going where I want, when I want, is an under-appreciated thrill (even if I’m still in a sling).
Attended a big event that the Greater Bethesda Chamber of Commerce held at the KID Museum at Bethesda Metro. Meeting entrepreneurs who are building businesses in the community is energizing, especially at a venue like KID, where students—and adults—learn hands-on skills to shape our world. (More to say about that next week.)
Other than a 1.5-hour slog through the Maryland Comptroller’s new money-sucking black hole website for individual taxpayers, it was a fun week. (But I’m not bitter…)
Anyway, here’s what I was up to and what landed in my notebook:
Doing Shots
Thrilled to be behind the wheel again, I headed directly to Safeway. I love the Safeway at Fallsgrove Village because it’s basically a dry cocktail party for women over 40. People drift around the store striking up random conversations, discussing everything from bananas to foreign policy and turning an otherwise mundane chore into a social event.
If Safeway ever put in a wine bar, the place could support a two-drink minimum.
I hadn’t even made it through produce when my knee—another casualty of the fall in September—became so painful that I could barely stand. As luck would have it, an announcement about flu and COVID vaccines came over the loudspeaker—right in the middle of Margaritaville—so I decided to get my shots and sit down in the pharmacy for a while.
I limped up to the pharmacy counter, where the clerk was checking someone out. “Excuse me,” I said. “Are you accepting walk-ups for flu shots?”
The clerk snapped, “I’m not taking questions! Next!”
I stared at her for a second and thought, “Huh. I wonder if she’s one of Trump’s former press secretaries.”
I snapped out of my reverie when a woman in line barked at the clerk. “What’s wrong with you? That nice woman asked you a question very politely. Answer her damn question!”
The clerk looked sullen and said, “Fine. We’re taking walk-ups. Whatever.”
The woman said, “Was that so hard?”
“Whatever.” The clerk walked away, leaving no one at the register.
The woman and I started chatting about the demise of the service industry when I noticed that she had a keychain with my high school’s name on it.
“Did you go to Holy Child?” I asked, pointing at her keys.
“Yes! Did you?”
“I did!”
“Oh, my God, I knew I liked you!”
She was a few years behind me, but we realized we had at least a dozen people in common—it’s a surprise we’d never met before.
The woman behind us in line piped up: “My cousin went to Holy Child! I graduated in 1992 from a school in New York, so she probably graduated in ’94. Her parents gave her a Jaguar when she turned 16.”
The first woman said, “Wait! Was her name Cindy?”
“Yes!” the New York woman said. “Cindy Reilly!”
“She was in my sister’s class,” the first woman said. “She had great hair.”
“It didn’t turn out well,” the New York woman said. “Too much sun.”
“Yeah. That always happens.”
The clerk returned, handed us all forms to fill out for the shots, and directed us to the waiting room.
Just then, another woman walked up, trailed by three teenage boys. “I’d also like a form for a flu shot, please,” she said. The clerk, who apparently considered this a major imposition, sighed and handed her a form.
She started walking with us to the waiting room, but the boys didn’t move. She turned around and shouted, “Come!” The boys shuffled along silently.
Safeway’s pharmacy waiting room is actually comfortable, so we settled onto the couches to review the vaccine menu and place our orders.
“I’m thinking of getting a Pfizer this year,” the New York woman said. “Last year I got a Moderna, and I didn’t like it.”
“What didn’t you like?” I asked.
“It had no zing,” she said. “I want a COVID shot that announces itself. If I don’t feel bad the next day, I always wonder if it actually worked.”
“I know what you mean,” the Holy Child alumna said. “The flu shot in 2021 was the best. I got really sick for two days, then I didn’t even sniffle for two years after that.”
“I don’t even care if I get sick,” the new woman said, looking at the boys. “I just want some alone time.”
“I’m going to try the new Moderna one,” I said. “The Wall Street Journal called it ‘different.’”
“That’s bold,” my Holy Child friend said, nodding gravely. “I respect that.”
When the pharmacist came out to collect our forms, the New York woman said, “OK, we’re going to have three Pfizers and a Moderna, plus four flu shots. Anyone want an RSV?”
The pharmacist smiled and said, “It’s on the forms.”
“Right,” the woman said. “Just trying to help.”
The Holy Child alumna said, “What are you all doing after this? I was thinking about going over to Starbucks.”
The new woman looked at the boys. “I have to take them home.”
The New York woman said, “I’d love to, but my husband is working from home today, and he’ll just start calling me if I don’t return in two hours.”
“Sounds fun,” I said, “but I’ll have frozen food.”
“Well,” my alumna friend said, “if you all are around, I usually come by on Fridays.”
“I’ll look for you!” the New York woman said. “Maybe around 2? We can connect before we shop.”
“Fun!” my other new friend said.
The woman with the boys looked sad and said, “I have soccer practice on Fridays.”
We all nodded.
I know where I’ll be next week!
Observed
Speaking of Safeway, I was puzzled to see a woman walking through the store carrying a Totes-style umbrella over her head, as if she anticipated a sudden downpour in the cereal aisle. It wasn’t raining outside, nor was it raining (or even drizzling) in the store.
The woman, who appeared to be about 40, was wearing a black-and-white Kente-print African dress, a matching head wrap, and five-inch peep-toe heels. She had dark sunglasses with large Gucci logos on the temples and a padded Chanel bag hanging off her shoulder. (Or really good knock-offs.)
It was a very Jackie-O-in-Nigeria look.
I passed her again as I looped through the store and saw her body-check a woman out of the way so she could reach for a magazine at the checkout. No “excuse me” or “may I reach over.” Just a WWE-style body slam.
The other woman said loudly, “Watch what you’re doing!” But the umbrella woman did not look up. Didn’t even flinch.
As she scanned People, a man in a Kente-print orange-and-black suit loaded their groceries onto the conveyor belt. I have to assume they’re morning people, because they were buying about 15 canisters of Quaker Oats.
Neither spoke, so I couldn’t pick up any accent.
Anyone have any insights about why the woman might have been carrying an open umbrella through the store? (And, why would a woman so blinged out carry a Totes? Ruined her whole look.)
My research has turned up nothing, and I’m fascinated to figure it out.
Listening
“What’s Going On?” Laza Bossa. A friend tipped me off to this. Most relaxing and incongruous trip through Vietnam, picket lines, and social unrest I’ve ever heard.
“Slow Ride,” Foghat. On the elevator at Whole Foods. Perfection!
“Biggest Part of Me,” Ambrosia. At the orthopedic surgeon.
“Call Me,” Astrud Gilberto. Internal Revenue Service hold music. Sometimes I consider dropping SiriusXM and just calling government offices to sit on hold when I want to listen to music.
“Expresso 2222,” Caixa Cubo. An album preview someone sent me. Well worth a listen. Full album, Ultracooked, drops on November 20.
“El Corazón,” Ezra Collective. Music blaring from a car on Democracy Blvd. I liked it enough to follow it for several blocks.
“Cool for Cats,” Squeeze. First song I heard while driving again.
“Imidiwan Takyadam,” Tinariwen featuring José González. At my desk. Sounds like it should come from Louisiana, but it’s actually Saharan desert blues. Who knew?
“Madwoman,” Laufey. Both described me and soothed me as I got stuck sitting through two cycles at the same traffic light. Montgomery County programs its traffic signals to maximize suffering.
“Ubukho Bakhe,” Jabulile Majola and Thando Zide. Reading at home. Reminds me of Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush’s “Don’t Give Up,” but with sweetness instead of pathos.
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Milestones
Still Missing: Amelia Earhart. Rough seas are keeping Purdue’s expedition from completing its investigations, but the university reports that the researchers are going to keep trying. Early findings point to…continued mystery. Wow, I wish we could solve this mystery and move on to the Lindbergh baby or the Bermuda Triangle.
Announced: The Apple HomeView. Apple was pretty squirrelly about this release, not even letting hand-picked reporters shoot video at the announcement. I’m inclined to think that points to an overpriced Echo Show without an app store, but, hey, Apple didn’t invite me to the release.
Record broken: White House Press Secretary. Katie Zacharia set a new record last week when she left office after five days on the job. Her major announcement while in office? Confirming Kimberly Guilfoyle’s dismissal as ambassador to Greece. Do I sense a golden parachute? Someone better check Katie’s Amex statement.