Just Out and About...

I had to go to the doctor this morning. Not a big deal. For those of you who know me well, you’ll understand that running a fever was a far lesser concern than getting halfway to my destination and realizing that I didn’t have my Droid. The doctor hooked me up with a prescription for some antibiotics, and a plethora of encouragement about how everything’s still normal, and still on track. However, miracle worker that he is, he could do NOTHING about the fact that I went nearly two hours without taking or making phone calls, texting, facebooking, web surfing, stock checking, map routing, hot spotting, listening to my Booty Shaking music station, or taking random photos. How was it that I functioned before this nifty little device danced into my life? I can’t recall.


The component I was missing the most this morning was the camera. After the doctor’s visit, I stopped at Trader Joe’s. While there, I noticed Brussels sprouts. They were still on the stalk. For some reason in my mind, I had always thought they grew underground, or low-lying. I was intrigued by the revelation. Their stalks look similar to a broccoli stalk. It sort of made me think of giants and bean stalks, like maybe on the days bean stalks weren’t available, little ol’ Jack could have used the Brussels sprouts as a trellis to the terrible giant.

Curious as I was, I did not leave the store with any of the stalks. I have never acquired a taste for them, and have yet to find a way to prepare them that can overcome the issues I have with their taste and their texture. But I really wanted a picture. I was bummed I didn’t have the camera. I think I’ll try to go back in a couple days, since I need to return for the dried unsulfured, unsweetened Mangos they were out of as well.

On my way home, I had another “I wish I had my camera!” encounter. A dark-skinned gentleman, wearing a blazing orange, white, and black Giants jersey, rode through the intersection at Lake Boulevard and Market Street on a cruiser-type bicycle. A lavender bicycle, with purple and white streamers on the handlebars, and several shades of violet cutouts in the spokes, no less. The cacophony of color was dazzling. The grin on his face was priceless.

And my dear Droid was at home.