In Which I Am Not Mindful While Shopping In The Grocery Store

April 2, 2013January 28, 2021 / Ally Bean / 20 Comments

I found myself with an hour of free time late in the afternoon. As I was already out & about I decided to run into Kroger to pick up a few things. Because I wasn’t planning on going there, I didn’t have my shopping list with me.

I knew that I needed 6 items to make what I had in mind for dinner, so I decided to assign each ingredient to a finger/thumb. The result of this impromptu shopping list was that I looked like a child counting on my fingers as I shopped. Goofy as it was, my finger list did work. BUT it also meant that I started pushing my cart, a large one, with one hand.

And if there is anything that you must remember about me, it is that I am not too coordinated. Clumsy, even.

Thus, it will come as no surprise when I tell you that while counting on one hand and pushing the cart with my other hand I managed to block a produce aisle with my catty-wampus, slightly out-of-control cart.

I knew immediately that I was in the way. Pretty much because I heard the metal clank of my cart bumping another cart head-on. It’s a sound one recognizes even while staring at one’s fingers and thumb.

I looked up ready to offer an apology when I realized that the woman who I’d inconvenienced was Lilias Folan. As in someone famous. As in someone with a nationally syndicated PBS TV show. As in the woman who is sometimes credited with introducing yoga to the USA.

Yep, that’s who I bashed into in the grocery produce department. Good job, Ms. Bean.

But here’s the thing, Lilias was just standing there with a kind smile on her face waiting for the crazy lady [moi] to get out of her way. She had no where to back up to, so her choice was to be patient OR to get angry. And because she was living her life off the mat as she did on the mat, she chose the former.

Of course, me being me, after I said that I was sorry I tried to explain myself by babbling about fingers and no shopping list and dinner– et cetera, et cetera. And my dithery explanation, I’m happy to report, got Lilias laughing.

This made me feel better about my screw-up and got me thinking that it’s time for me to get back into yoga because I want to be that older woman with perfect posture, a calm aura & the ability to laugh when things go wrong.

And who better to emulate than Lilias? The bumpee in my ~~brush~~ bump with greatness.

The Point Where Compassion And Mispronunciation Meet

March 27, 2013May 6, 2021 / Ally Bean / 24 Comments

I’ll tell you straight up that I did not correct this young woman’s pronunciation.

The whole conversation happened so quickly, and I was so slow to understand what she was talking about, that the chance never came in the moment for me to tell her: “that’s not how you say it.”

Plus she was so happy about what she was telling me that I didn’t want to rain on her parade, so I said nothing even after I figured it out.

I’ll also tell you that this young woman is a high school graduate from one of the better high schools in the region. And that she speaks using perfect grammar + polysyllabic words. And that she is quite bright about the logic of things.

But here’s the thing, the situation that I found myself in, where I did not know what to do.

She was talking about her vacation plans, in detail. She had found a deal on airfare by watching the prices online. When she saw that she could travel to her western destination with just one stopover in the midwest, she jumped on that ticket because the price was right.

As she had never been to that part of the midwest [and I guess that she missed school the days when the teacher talked about it], she was mispronouncing this city’s name. At first I didn’t understand where she was going, and then when I did it was– well, re-read my second paragraph.

So here is what she said to me. She was going to change flights in: my knee A poe Lis.

Care to guess where she was going? And any suggestions about how to handle a similar situation should it arise in my lifetime again?

I await your comments below.

I Hate Fickle

March 25, 2013May 6, 2021 / Ally Bean / 15 Comments

fick•le adjective

Definition of FICKLE – : marked by lack of steadfastness, constancy, or stability : given to erratic changeableness

Origin of FICKLE – Middle English fikel deceitful, inconstant, from Old English ficol deceitful; akin to Old English befician to deceive, and probably to Old English fāh hostile

~ Merriam-Webster

• So this morning it is still snowing here. Pathetic. I am tired of this stuff. I am depressed because I cannot make any progress on any of my health + home decorating goals. I am bored being stuck inside. I feel like I have lost the month of March, one of my favorites, to fickleness.

• This last week or so I’ve used my iPad more. It’s a great device if you want to consume something. Read an article or a book. Watch a movie or a TV show. Play a game. Wonderful. Easy. But when it comes to creating an email message or a blog comment I find it awkward. Fickle even.

This cute little machine auto-corrects willy-nilly and often sends/publishes what I write before I’m finished writing it. So if you’ve received something from me that doesn’t make sense, know that it came from me & my iPad. And that I am trying to get more comfortable using it. There’s a learning curve here.

• And while I’m in a complaining mood, let’s talk about advertisements. In just the last few months I’ve seen more adverts on blogs & in magazines & on cable TV & in my snail mailbox than ever before. And I don’t like this trend. It seems desperate.

It is visual clutter and/or wasteful. And, quite truthfully, when I see or receive lots of advertisements I immediately wonder what is really going on. My spidey senses tell me that I am now the product and that someone is trying to use me. Deceive me, perhaps. It is fickle [in the original meaning of the word], ‘ya know?