Liking Those McDonald Straws

          Before 2020’s pandemic the governor of Oregon put a ban on plastics – namely plastic bags and straws. That year came with the price of five cents per plastic bag (which is still way cheaper than paying sales tax) and asking for straws – many (such as Costco) which offer those crummy paper straws  which ruin the taste of whatever drink I may have ordered.

          A shopper is always asked if he/she would like a bag or bags and will be charged five or ten cents per bag.  Many  stores (including Walmart see here and here) have have done away with plastic bags and may offer alternatives such as reusable (which may be made of 100% plastic?) I would think for less than three dollars.

        The McDonald’s in Myrtle Creek still gives out the fat McDonald’s straw though  these three articles (here, here and here) imply that there has been a change to paper in the UK and possibly California – so why would Myrtle Creek have the privilege of passing out the plastic straw?  Doesn’t matter.  My post is not to fault the McDonald’s or point fingers but to recall a memory about why I love the McDonald’s straw (the big fat plastic ones). I think of my dad whenever I see them

My dad had had several strokes in the last two years of his life.  With each stroke his brain was affected with the lack of controlling his muscles. He had to have assistance with walking, and slowly lost the ability to eat, drink and talk.  We used to buy thick liquids (peach nectar was the thickest we could find at the time) and look for straws that were thick like McDonald’s because those were the best straws.  I was grateful for the times that we were able to obtain extra straws.

Thank you for your fat straws. Good luck with another solution.

I’d Rather Have it Red Like Wendy’s than Wilma Flintstone’s Color

         The other day I went to the hair salon to get my hair cut and colored.  I had  made an appointment for 8:00 but had forgotten I had made it for that time and did not show up until 9:00.  I think the stylist was mad – which she had reason to be.  I was upset with myself – and here I’ve been taking this Prevagen (which by the way does not seem to be working; at two dollars a pill, I would think my mind would have cleared that first day). 

        She said she’d color my hair and reset the appointment for my haircut.  But it was the cut I needed more than the coloring. I had purchased only one bottle of hair coloring and was willing to try it by myself – but with less hair.  She agreed to cut me and commented on the thickness and length of my hair.  She then read the directions of the hair dye I had purchased and proceeded to get it ready to add to my head.  I was a bit concerned when the shaken up formula bore a strong resemblance to that of carrot juice.  I didn’t want my hair that color.

        I’m okay with my white hair – I really am.  I had it white the entire time I subbed at the school district but after the “Stay at Home” order was given, Richard and Jaime begged me to change the color and so I did.  I often use a different shade of red depending on what my choices are.  When living in small town America there are often limitations to one’s options of brand or selection.

        The dye did darken I’m happy to say – but still nowhere near the color on the box.  Instead of orange hair like Lucille Ball or Wilma Flintstone, it came out more of an unnatural red sort of resembling the Wendy’s icon.  That is what happened with my hair at the end of March, but instead of orange-turning-red, it came out purple-turned-maroon.  I think it was  supposed to be the same color in each case – though the picture on the box was closer to purple/maroon than it was to anything that resembled the color of flames.

        Yesterday morning all three of us went to the pool.  Richard had decided that he wanted to go to Costco right afterwards and so I packed my clothes (which I normally don’t do – I just wait until I return home to change) and had a problem removing my suit.  As I was getting dressed, I realized I had forgotten my pants and wrapped a towel around myself.  I presented Richard with a few choices: He could continue to Costco and I could wait in the car.  He could take me home and drop me off.  He could take me home and wait for me to change.  If, by chance, Vinny de Paul’s was open, he could stop off and purchase something he thought would fit.  The problem is he and Jaime never seem to put size into consideration.  She does know me better than Richard does and so I sent the both of them in and waited in the car.

        I was near enough the window that I saw them holding up items for purchase.  Apparently they both missed the expression on my face.  Richard held up a pair of red sweatpants (though darker than my hair) while Jaime held up a blue paisley-printed skirt.  It looked like something I would wear – but not with a printed tee that said “Barn in the USA”.  When they returned to the car, I told Richard he was not allowed to move the car until I had on said item.  I started with the pants which were not sweatpants but more like pajama bottoms.  They were marked 2X.  2X for who? 2X should be a size indicating you may be a little paunch around the middle.  Not a tall and somewhat thin person.  There is no way I was getting that thing over my gut.  I ended up wearing the skirt. I felt l looked ready to go to Walmart. 

       It didn’t look as terrible as I imagined.  (I am NOT a Trump supporter - though I have seen many that do seem to have that "Walmart" mentality;  I do kind of look like one of those) Not that anybody was looking.  My flaming hair received more stares than anything.  Richard and Jaime are the ones that have to look at it and both seem happy with it.  I don’t dislike it but I haven’t learned to love it either.  I am happy to have it all evenly distributed unlike I’ve been doing on my own (as I can’t see behind my head) and it does feel so much better.  So that’s a plus.

       

What a Difference

           When the stay-at-home order was given in March, there was a great number of people who did stay home but there were many who had the attitude that “I still have freedom . . . nobody tells me what to do . . .” and have contributed to American stupidity ever since.

I don’t like Walmart for many reasons but Roland just so happens to have a Walmart card and Roseburg has a Walmart and so we have been there numerous times – though I have not accompanied him as often as Jenna who wanted to go to Roseburg last and I wanted to stay home with Bonnie (the dog) but Roland had me go and Jenna stay.

Because there was no iodized salt offered at Costco, Roland wanted to stop by Walmart first to get some.  The last time we had gone to Walmart there was a line of people waiting for consumers to exit the store and were allowed so many at a time (depending on the amount leaving) maintaining a social distancing.  Everybody required to wear masks.

Now it’s every man for himself, masks are optional.  And evidently a client can clean a shelf off of product and it doesn’t seem to matter how much is being hordered.  (We purchased 24 cans of salt which pretty much wiped out the inventory on the floor).  Wal-Mart caters to Pharisees.

We then went to Costco to purchase other bulk items such as toilet paper and paper towels.  Everyone was social distancing.  Everyone was wearing masks.  That’s how it should be.  We should still be on a stay-at-home order because our moving to phases one and two were not gradual enough.  At least I am in Oregon and not in Florida right now.  There’s a state with many problems.  Is their governor good friends with Donald Trump?   Is he trying to outshine his criminal mind?  It’s as though the leadership (or lack thereof) in the state is experiencing PMS.

We had wanted to purchase three large packages of toilet paper but were allowed only one.  Costco knows that there is still a pandemic.  I like Costco.  Don’t like Walmart.  Chewed Roland out this morning and said I don’t ever want him going to Walmart again.  Not during the pandemic.  He has made the decision not to attend church and I guarantee you that the Church is being so much more careful than Walmart and we have a lot more room than we did on the airplaine going to New York (which was a careless thing on our part – I don’t ever want to fly again even when the pandemic is over.  I do not like being squashed! 

Thank you Costco for sticking by your guns.