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March 27, 2007

Robert Steps Out

The Mission

"I need a manual can opener."

Karen mimes a leveraging motion in the air: wrist held aloft, then a downward motion, like an oil derrick: pump, pump, pump.

"Not electric, Robert, got it?"

I rip a post-it and carefully scrawl: man can opnr.

"We also need dishtowels, two red, two blue, one large bathtowel, and one colander."

On the post it, I add: dsh twls bl, rd, 1 bth twl, 1 ?

"What's a colander?"

Karen yanks open a kichen drawer, hauls out a bowl that has lots of holes in it.

On the post-it I write: clndr: prfctly gd bwl thts bn prfrtd by AK-47.

"Got it?"
"Uh-huh."
"I head to the door."
"Robert, where you you going?"
"Um..."
"You know where your gun shop is?"
"You have to ask?"
"Okay, the store is parallel to your gun shop, so just take Pico, make a left on Beverly Glen, then a left on Olympic, go straight on Olympic and you'll see it on your right in about two miles. Can't miss it."

The Gadget Wall

I don't get out much. When I step into the store I halt in my tracks. I am simply overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle, not to mention the zillions of products for sale.

I reach for my post-it. Grasp it in my grubby paw, and hold on for dear life.

Just to show that I mean business, I grab a shopping cart. Naturally the front right wheel wobbles and makes this weird little horror movie sound.

I have never seen so many garbage cans in all my life. So many ways of disposing of life's trash. Up and down the aisles, I wander. I'm looking at these weird little desk fans. Hmm, maybe I should get one for Offspring #3 when she hits Stern College. It gets awfully hot and muggy in New York. And look, this one comes in pink. Isn't that cute. And here's one desk fan that has this fuzzy thingee all over it. It actually looks like a Tribble from that great Star Trek episode.

Screeech.

I hit the brakes.

I grab a salesman.

"Excuse me, I need a can opener."
"Over there, aisle 12, The Gadget Wall."

He actually says it with capitals.

The scale of The Gadget Wall is enormous. I'm talking El Cap. I stand at the base of The Gadget Wall, craning my neck as I look up. I get dizzy, like Jimmy Stewart in Vertigo.

They have gadgets piled twelve deep. After about five minutes I manage to locate the can opener section.

Guess what?

Of the ten dozen can openers, not one is manual. Every single can opener is electric.

I wander around, my post-it still in my fist, and manage to grab hold of another salesman.

"Excuse me, I need a manual can opener."

I realize that I sound disturbingly like a drug addict saying: I need a fix.

He looks at me, confused, "Wha?"

I do what Karen did. Make that little leveraging motion in the air. Wrist held aloft, the downward motion, pump, pump, pump.

"Manual. Can. Opener." I repeat.

Salesman walks me over to the Gadget Wall. Grabs an electric can opener.
"These are better."
"Karen wants manual."
"Who's Karen?"
"My wife."
Salesman grins.
"You tell Karen this much better."

Oh boy.

I think there's a definite cultural divide here.

"Listen, I'm not gonna tell Karen this is better. Karen wants a manual can opener."
Salesman challenges: "How come?"

Smiling: "I didn't ask. She's my wife. You know how it is, right?"
"I guess."
"And your job is to help the customer, right?
He shrugs. He's not sure.

We just stand there.

Finally, he has an idea. "Lemme get my Floor Manager."

The Actress, Sorta

Two minutes later, Salesman returns with a tall, black-eyed woman. She must have tons of authority for she carries a clip-board. I'm impressed as heck. She's like a Color War General in Camp Morasha. She's thin as a whisp of smoke, and she's got blue/black hair the color of a Colt single action .45. Floor Manager has the unmistakable look of an out-of-work actress. She is radiant—but hard. Think: Maria Montez meets The Great Texas Dynamite Chase. I'm something of an authority on this embittered Hollywood look. I've been observing it for over twenty-five years.

"Can I help you sir?"

"I need a manual can opener."

She just gazes at me with those bottomless, flinty eyes. Man, I would cast her as a killer babe in no time at all. She doesn't have to act; she has presence.

I do it again. Miming the action: pump, pump, pump. I'm turning into a regular Marcel Marceau. Which, if you think about it, is absolutely pathetic.

I hate mimes.

The Salesman adds: "Karen wants it."
The Floor Manager asks: "Who is Karen?"
The Salesman says: "The Mrs."
The Floor Manager says: "Got to be manual?"
I say: "That's what my wife wants."
The Floor Manager goes: "Gotcha."

We just stand there. This store is about 14 million square feet stuffed with every product on the face of the earth (except guns!) and we three adults are in a, ahem, Mexican/Jewish stand-off.

The Floor Manager says: "Lemme see what we got in back-stock."
She disappears.

Salesman shuffles merchandise from one rack to the next.
"You think she'll come back?" I ask.
He shrugs.

Ten minutes pass. The Salesman drifts away.

I hum to myself.

People gaze at me. Everyone is shopping. They have a purpose in life. I, on the other hand, am just standing and humming: "Oh Say Can You See, By the Stars Early Light..." etc.

It hits me: I have been cruelly abandoned.

I manage to find a really soft bath towel, four great dish towels that are super absorbent, and just the right shades of red and blue. The colors are very Barnett Newman.

Colander. This is a bit more difficult. Karen should have warned me that there are about one-hundred different brands and shapes of colanders. There are big colanders and little colanders. There are round colanders and triangular colanders. There are plastic colanders and aluminum colanders. And I don't even want to get into the various holes that the manufacturers drill into colanders. It is seizure inducing.

Here's what I always do in such situations, I follow the advice of Maimonides, The Rambam. In Hilchos Dayos, Rambam tells us that in life it's always wise to follow Derech ha-emtzai, the middle path.

I do not buy the most expensive, I do not buy the cheapest. I buy somewhere in the middle.

Okay, mission almost accomplished. So I didn't get the manual can opener. Karen will understand.

Front wheel screeching and wobbling, I make my way to the cash registers. Suddenly, the hard-eyed Store Manager falls into step beside me. She holds out a dust-covered little plastic package.

"Here you go."
"Wow, where'd you find it?"
"In the back. Last manual can opener in Los Angeles. Look at the price. Dollar ninety-five. Bargain."
"I thought you ran out on me."
"Nah. You shopping for your wife like that. It's like so sweet."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Hey, hope you don't mind me asking; you an actress?"

The Floor Manager giggles. She doesn't look so hard-eyed any longer. In fact, she looks like what she is: a sweet, generous Los Angelino.

"You kidding? I'm studying to be a paralegal."

Sheesh, so much for my twenty-five years of so-called expertise.

She flashes me a brilliant smile, bops back to work.

I should get out more often.

Posted by Robert J. Avrech at March 27, 2007 07:12 AM

Comments

Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.

1. No profanity.

2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism.

That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.

Ah, the bed, the bath... the beyond. I love the gadget wall. Hard to get out of that store.

Can't wait for you to try the 99-cent store.

Posted by: ralphie at March 27, 2007 10:05 AM

Ralphie:

I was there, get this, for close to 2 hours. Those aisles are endless.

I think I was hypnotized.

Really.

What's a 99-cent store?

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 10:16 AM

Very good of you to shop for your wife. And congratulations on finding someone who was willing to go that extra mile for a customer.

One question though. Since California is prone to earthquakes and those earthquakes can cause extended power outages: wouldn't a manual can opener be an essential tool for emergencies? It seems odd that stores wouldn't carry them.

I would have been in trouble after Katrina if I didn't have a manual can opener.

Posted by: kb at March 27, 2007 10:22 AM

Another great and amusing post, Robert.

I've been to a Bed, Bath and Beyond store in L.A. as well as to a Los Angeles 99 cent store...and yes, there's good reason to get lost in both.

You don't mention any cell phone conversations with Karen in this episode; was there no need for any?

Posted by: Pearl at March 27, 2007 10:44 AM

Dear Robert,

A wonderful story! Funny, so true to life! And I love how you abbreviated the items Karen wanted on the post-it note!

I remain,

Very Sincerely Yours,

Alan D. Busch

Posted by: alan at March 27, 2007 11:19 AM

We should have called it a "bottle opener" and then they would have understood. I just saw loads of them at Longs Drugstore. BTW, it's a right turn off Pico to Beverly Glen, just in case anyone is using this site for literal directions.

Posted by: Karen Avrech at March 27, 2007 11:26 AM

Robert, I'm confused.

Don't you have a cell phone? When Sara sends me shopping for ANYTHING I call her at least five times. (She, of course, finds it amusing that while I routinely and unilaterally make very important decisions at work that can have significant financial ramifications, I can't decide what kind of cottage cheese to buy).

Posted by: Azriel at March 27, 2007 11:27 AM

KB:

You would think that the stores would carry supplies for earthquakes, but here's the thing: Los Angelinos live in a perpetual state of denial.

Otherwise known as a 24-hour psychotic episode.

It is very sad.

But not us.

Here at Casa Avrech we are aware—and terrified.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 01:57 PM

Pearl:

Nope, no phone calls this time.

Because:

1. Shopping is far less stressful than shul dinners.
2. I wanted to, y'know, stand up and be a man. Do this job without kvetching over the phone—even though I was desperate to hit the speed dial.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 02:23 PM

Wow. Shopping was never so riveting!

I think I have the same reaction when running such errands for my mother. Still, it's all for a good cause :-P

Posted by: tnspr569 at March 27, 2007 02:24 PM

Alan:

Wt wud lf b wtht pstit nts?

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 02:26 PM

Karen:

Bottle opener? Hmm. Has a nice clear ring.

Longs? That's near our house, right?

Right turn off Pico to Beverly Glen?

So: where's my gun shop?

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 02:29 PM

Azriel:

See my answer above to Pearl. Masculine pride is heavily involved.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 02:32 PM

How can they not make manual can openers anymore? That's just ridiculous. Are people really that lazy?! Besides, think of all the joy that the sound of a manual can opener has brought to hungry kitties waiting for dinner to be served!

Re earthquakes, I thought all Californians had an emergency kit? That was one of the few redeeming things I learned in school: the importance of having canned fruit, granola bars and bottled water set aside in case of an emergency. Every classroom had a gigantic plastic trashcan full of all of the kids' emergency food supplies. Teachers took those trashcans very seriously.

Posted by: Fern R at March 27, 2007 02:38 PM

I like the wholesomely libidinous description of the store manager. Yasher koach.

Posted by: Barzilai at March 27, 2007 03:51 PM

Your humble editor say it s/b "Pst-it Nts."

Posted by: Pearl at March 27, 2007 04:02 PM

Your writing brings such delight to a mundane topic such as shopping. Amoung my friends, I'm known as a feminine anomaly: I do not like shop nor do I like chocolate. My goal every week is to make it through a the whole week without going to a store.

Posted by: Melissa at March 27, 2007 04:17 PM

What would life be without pistachio nuts? I'm not sure. We could probably get some at the 99-cent store.

I can't get cell phone reception from the produce or dairy section at Ralphs (right above the Long's!). Very big problem.

Posted by: ralphie at March 27, 2007 04:42 PM

tnspr569:

Hey, we can go shopping together. You for your mom, me for Karen. Clueless together, what fun!

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 05:18 PM

Fern:

This store is "beyond" manual can/bottle openers. As Karen wrote above, she just located a treasure trove at Long's.

Earthquake preparedness. Speak to Karen. She was in charge of that at our local Yeshiva.

But that was years ago.

No idea what's happened since.

As I said, here at Casa Avrech we take the fissures in the earth quite seriosuly. In fact, I watch "Journey to the Center of the Earth" at least once a year.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 05:25 PM

Barzilai:

So, you "like the the wholesomely libidinous description of the store manager."

Noticed, did you?

Hmm, should have known. You are Slabodekeh, after all. Can't get anything past my misnagdishe readers. Not like my Chasideshe chevre—who are like totally blinded by the sefirot :)

Sigh. Head in hands.

I tried.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 05:33 PM

Melissa:

Chocolate. Just you wait for my blog about Karen and chocolate.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 05:38 PM

Pearl:

"Pst-it Nts."

Thnksmch.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at March 27, 2007 05:42 PM

As is often the case in my life experience, I don’t know if I’m being appreciated or excoriated, laughed with or at. In any case, your writing is so varied, and as smooth as a creek, and well worth the time spent reading it, so what the heck. Of course, you get paid to write, so you know you do it well.

Posted by: Barzilai at March 27, 2007 06:49 PM

"Of the ten dozen can openers, not one is manual. Every single can opener is electric."

Just last night I went into a pharmacy to buy a thermometer (for body temp). A plain cheap glass one. All they sold were digital ones. But I wanted a glass one.

So I went to another pharmacy. They too had a wide array of digitals, but I was also able to find one glass thermometer. I bought it—even though it was more expensive than the cheapest digital.

What type of a world has this become?

Posted by: Ari Kinsberg at March 27, 2007 07:09 PM

Barzilai

You are being totally appreciated, and highly complimented—from one Litvak to another. Thanks so much for your kind words Though I get paid to write, it's for movies. Blogging is a whole other arena and I'm delighted that people enjoy our words.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 08:11 PM

Ari:

You ask: What type of a world has this become?

I reply: Too complicated.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 08:15 PM

As I said, here at Casa Avrech we take the fissures in the earth quite seriosuly

Here at the Shack we have survived many quakes including the '71 Sylmar quake, '87 Whittier Narrows, '94 Northridge, not to mention the Landers and Big Bear quakes. I have learned a thing or two from those experiences so here is the plan.

When the big one hits I am going to be at a shopping center that contains both Costco and Home Depot. When the shaking stops I will take a forklift and create a little space to work in.

Then I will take advantage of both stores by grabbing a portable generator, gas grill, some steaks, chicken, wine, hot tub, clean clothes, stereo, big screen television etc.

It is going to be beautiful.

Posted by: Jack at March 27, 2007 09:14 PM

Jack:

Gee, sounds like a great earthquake. Can you make the grill kosher so Karen and I can join you?

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 27, 2007 10:19 PM

Robert,

Kashering the grill is not a problem. We'll grab one of the new ones, you know never been used before and we'll be good to go.

Posted by: Jack at March 27, 2007 11:57 PM

I thought that electric can-openers were a fad that went away in about 1976. I have not used anything other than a manual can-opener in over 25 years. Clearly America is different.

Posted by: Michael Jennings at March 28, 2007 02:27 AM

Jack:

See ya.

P.S. How will I recognize you? Oh yeah, you're the one with the newly kashered grill :)

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 28, 2007 06:53 AM

Michael:

Do you still use a rotary dial:)?

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 28, 2007 06:58 AM

Rotary phones dial pulses, and as a consequence do not work properly with modern digital phone systems. Most modern exchanges do have pulse recognition systems still built into them so that old phones can be used to make calls, but you when you have to "Dial three to speak to an operator", you are probably up the creek. That said, there is a lot to be said for owning at least one phone that can operate without having to be plugged into the electricity as well as the telephone socket, as these will still work in an emergency when you have lost the power but not the telephone system.

On the other hand, manual can openers still work perfectly fine with today's modern cans.

Posted by: Michael Jennings at March 28, 2007 09:38 AM

Michael:

Hey, you don't have to convince us about the virtues of manual can/bottle openers. We're practically Luddites on the subject.

I actually miss the ancient rotary phone. I miss Ma Bell. I even miss the monopoly. Those massive heavy phones never broke. Never needed servicing. They were solid, like Gibraltar.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 28, 2007 10:16 AM

I never saw them, because I wasn't in America at the time, but those Bell system bakelite phones are legendary, yes. One of the annoying things about a former world of telephone monopolies was that every country did things slightly differently, and how things were done was designed by bureaucrats. So we had a world of non-uniform and eccentric standards. (Did you know that in New Zealand the numbers on rotary phones were in a different order to those everywhere else in the world?). Incompatibility was desirable, because that meant you couldn't do anything without the consent of the monopoly in question.

Posted by: Michael Jennings at March 29, 2007 08:08 AM

Michael:

Were the phones made of Bakelite? No wonder they were so tough. Many fine combat knive handles, including the famous Randall Combat # 1 knife was made of Bakelite for a while and they are now quite desirable and very expensive. Great material.

New Zealand. Did not know that of the phones.

Let's see, what do I know of NZ?

Sheep.

And oh yes, some of the toughest, bravest soldiers on planet earth.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 29, 2007 11:08 AM

Mr. A- careful, I may take you up on that offer whenever I make it out to your part of the country.

Posted by: tnspr569 at March 29, 2007 09:01 PM

Tnspr509:

We're pulling out the manual can-openers, getting our kitchen ready for your visit.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at March 30, 2007 09:36 AM

:)

Ya never know...

If you ever find yourself in my neck of the woods (or somewhere else in the country/world where my family extends), you're officially invited to stop by...if you so desire.

Chag kasher v'sameach.

Posted by: tnspr569 at March 31, 2007 05:19 PM

Tnspr569:

Thanks so much. Might take you up on the invite. Chag kasher v'sameach.

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at April 1, 2007 03:26 PM

Well, just drop me an email...as always, one never knows. Truth be told, you're probably closer to some of my relatives than you may realize...

Would you like anything from the Holy Land?

Posted by: tnspr569 at April 4, 2007 08:42 PM

Tnspr:

You know what I really want from the Holy Land? A new government!

Posted by: Robert J. Avrech [TypeKey Profile Page] at April 4, 2007 09:00 PM

I'm praying for the same thing.

Manhigut Yehudit is something.

What really gives me hope is the up-and-coming generation of leaders- a number of truly incredible people, all with the same goal.

Please G-d...

Moadim L'Simcha.

Posted by: tnspr569 at April 5, 2007 07:08 AM

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