A Walk to the Pharmacy Provides Grist For a Compelling Blog Post (or at least a readable one)

A pharmacy, though not necessarily the one I went to

Walked to the pharmacy. On the way there was a person walking down a street making strange noises and jumping and gyrating as he did so. My read on the situation was that the man was dealing with mental health issues. Put another way: he was probably nuts. Being street smart, I avoided him. There was no line at the pharmacy. This caught me off guard. I’d been prepared for four or five people ahead and an opportunity to scroll through my Instagram feed. Alternatively I could have avoided an electronic device and let my mind wander. We do tend to fill up idle times with screen time whether we need to or not. Let’s be honest, usually we don’t need to.

I  used to go to a locally owned and operated pharmacy. I would be greeted by name. My prescription would be ready. It would be handed to me and I would make payment. I’d exchange pleasantries with the pharmacist then be on my way. That pharmacy was bought by a big corporation.

Now I go to a pharmacy that is part of a chain. I sign in on a screen giving my name, month and date of birth, indicate that I am me and then electronically sign. For some prescriptions I have to show an ID. It’s all as personal as a parking meter. At the pharmacy I go to no one chit-chats or even offers a cheery hello. It’s all business. I break protocol by thanking whoever glumly handed me my meds and even wish them a nice day. This seems to confuse them.

I left the pharmacy and strolled home. It’s November but warm. I hate warm Novembers. It’s supposed to be cool, even a little cold. The sun was out. How about a little drizzle? Not interested in another drought. I hate it when people celebrate “nice” weather when it’s supposed to be cold. It’s like they’re saying “hurrah! for global warming.”

A few blocks from my residence I observed a man walking up the other side of the street speaking angrily to no one. He did not have a hands-free phone. He too was dealing with mental health issues. Put another way: he had a few screws loose.

We’ve got a lot of people in Berkeley who talk, rave, scream, holler, yell, chat, argue, bicker with people who either aren’t present or don’t exist. Having grown up with a mother who did this I can assure you that I’ve had quite enough of that, thank you.

Now that we’ve had a Blue Wave, can we anticipate politicians taking an interest in our homeless population and the many people who wander the streets while dealing with mental health issues? I’d be surprised. Excuse my cynicism here but there’s profit in it and not much political capital to be gained so who frickin’ cares?

In any event I made a successful return from the pharmacy. I decided it was time for another blog post (you’re welcome) and I had a number of topics to choose from but ended up describing a damn trip to the pharmacy I’d only just taken.

I was thinking to add to what I’ve just written but sometimes it’s better to leave well enough alone. I believe this constitutes well enough.

Oh, by the way, happy 48th first date anniversary to my wife and me. A day that will live in infamy — I mean, in our eternal love.