Who said life is boring? From another person’s view, my life is pretty boring. I am somewhat limited by my brain disease. So I don’t drive, I can’t (or, at least, I’m not supposed to) take walks near or far by myself.
I’m going to lead you through a ‘boring’ day for me in an effort to show that living with Lewy body dementia doesn’t mean you can’t smile as the hand of God stirs the pot.
It was Monday, earlier this week, and my youngest daughter, Claire, called me to see if I wanted to go shopping for shoes, among other things. Why sure, I said.
Shopping with my grown- up daughters usually consists of walking around with the daughter for about 10 minutes then hastily seeking a chair. This pattern proved true on this day. I sat in a chair at the front of the store and watched people. That is really more fun than it seems, but its excitement has a short expiration date; luckily Claire arrived in a short time with some items. I’m pretty sure she bought some shoes.
Then we went to Target where she continued to shop for clothes. I wandered over to the section that had vinyl records. Little known fact, you can get some get good records — high quality re-mastered slabs of vinyl at Target and other like-minded stores such as Bed Bath and Beyond. There’s not a huge selection, mostly current best sellers. But they usually have the new re-issued classsics.
I saw George Harrison’s classic ,three-record box set called All Things Must Pass. I had to have it. (Remember we are living in the moment here.) This was a hefty box recently released on the 50th anniversary of its original recording release, and I guess they charged by the pound as it was $69.99. Whew, I dropped the box like it was on fire.
Dang, can’t say that I’ve ever spent that much on a record. If you follow my blog, you will know that about 75 percent of my collection are used or cutouts, or lucky finds at garage sales and thrift stores. With $75, I could probably find 10 good albums at a well-stocked record store or thrift shop.
And this is the smallest version of the set issued in several iterations at higher prices including a crate.
I have sold a couple or three records for that amount and above, so I do have an inkling for what records are worth. In this case you have a classic recording, re-mastered for sound quality, lyric sheets, a poster and, a booklet with photos and such.
I started seeing this as a good value. I’ve wanted this since about age 16, but it was pricey and for the reasons mentioned I felt better spending that money on several records.
I was in a kind of reverie or brain drain as I held the album and shook it ever so lightly to see if it had all the ‘stuff’ in there. I walked away without the album and went to look for Claire. Couldn’t find her. That was the sign I was waiting for.
I went back and snagged the album, found Claire and hustled to the check-out line before I changed my mind. Claire made some comment like ‘whoa’ when she saw the record and its price tag. I had a $50 bill and some other paper money in my wallet — but not enough. I dug through the cubby holes in my wallet and rooted around in my pockets. A few bucks brought me up to about $60 on a $75 purchase. I asked Claire for money, but she doesn’t carry cash like most young adults her age.
So as the chatter got louder in the ever-growing line I negotiated a deal where I split the purchase into two payments by credit card and the rest in cold hard cash.
The clerk said something like ‘They said vinyl records wouldn’t last but they are going strong.’ ‘Yup.’ I said.
On the way home Claire said to me ‘I see what you did there. Break the payments into two receipts, and show Mom just one.’
What? I said with fake indignation. Who have I raised here? She would think that I would try to hide a purchase from the mother of my children? How could she even come up with that idea?
I let out an evil laugh, or maybe just an evil snicker:
“Exactly,’ I said.
I think my daughter was wagging her finger at me. I was waiting to hear what Claire’s blackmail demands would be when I had a thought.
I’ll tell Catherine it was my birthday present from her.
Catherine met us at the door and she immediately asked how much?
‘Um, well, let’s see …” I started digging through my pockets for one receipt. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell a lie. I told her it was sixty-something which was either a half-truth or half-lie because it was really seventy-something. But take away the taxes and bingo I have a sixty-something dollar record, right? The rules are loose in this deft game of deception.
Then … a breakthrough.
I told her it would be my birthday present, upcoming in November. She said that’s perfect, “I’ve been struggling trying to figure out what to give you.’
She was happy, I was happy. I now have a classic record, considered the best solo project from a solo Beatle.
That night as I was making a song request to Alexa — the feminine robotic DJ — to play something, she suddenly got the urge to ask me help her fill out a profile on me and asked some pretty intense questions like what kind of music I like. And then she played some seductive love song by the Avett Brothers.
I looked at my wife and asked ‘Where did that come from?’
Catherine rolled her eyes and said, ‘She’s flirting with you.’
I felt a little dizzy and turned the volume down of the song as Catherine laughed.
So, as I look back over this, yes, it could have been a boring day. Home to store and back again.
Yet somehow it wasn’t.
We are given only a finite number of days. Enjoy them while you can. Because all things must pass.
