Tomorrow or today?

I guess it had to happen sooner or later in my retirement life, not knowing what day -- or date -- it is. 

The sad thing is I have no excuse. My (very) smart phone tells me the date when I open it for the day. I have an electronic calendar as well as a paper one. 

And yet, this morning, when I parked my car in the parking lot of my haircutting establishment, Michelle, who has cut my hair for several years, was parking hers a few spaces away. She waved at me, but with a peculiar look on her face. 

I was pleased because, since she was just arriving, I would be her first appointment and there would be no waiting. My schedule is busy in retirement, you know. 

I walked in a few paces behind her and sat down in one of the waiting room chairs, knowing the wait would be brief. 

Michelle comes out of the back room with the same peculiar look from the parking lot. 

"I don't have you in my book today," she said. 

I proceeded to tell her, politely, how there must be some mistake on her part. Just as I got the words out of my mouth, she said, "you are scheduled for 8:30 tomorrow morning."

"But let me show you my calendar and my email confirmation," I said, before turning 50 shades of red as I confirmed what she had just told me, that my appointment was tomorrow. 

"Well, what date is it?" I asked her, and bless her heart, with a look of pity, she answered me in a quiet voice, before saying, "I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"

Surely there is a three-strike rule, and I'll get at least one more incident like this before she calls my wife and suggests an intervention.  

Travel notes

As mentioned in my last post, Wife and I spent two weeks in the Pacific Northwest in May, starting in Seattle with baseball (which I wrote about on my Substack and linked in my previous post). From there we went to Mount Ranier and Olympic National Parks in Washington, then drove down the Oregon coast and into northern California to see the redwoods. 

This was our first time visiting this part of the country, which we thoroughly enjoyed. And, as I mentioned last time, this knocked off two more states for me, with four remaining to get to fifty. 

Here are a few pictures from our adventures. The first two are from Washington (fish market and Olympic National Park), the next three are along the Oregon coast and the last is from Redwood National Park. 

                                                                                

                                                                                    

                                                                                    

                                                                                

                                                                                

Similarities and differences

Wife and I recently returned from two weeks in the states of Washington and Oregon. You can read about the first part of the trip on my Substack --  (1) 30 in 32 - Bob McKinney: What I Know  -- where I recount my time in Seattle visiting my last Major League Baseball ballpark. 

I will post a more thorough narrative from the entire trip here soon, with pictures, but for this brief post I want to share about a major similarity and a major difference I observed in this part of the U.S. when compared to where I live in Middle Tennessee. 

The similarity was in the people. The people we met in Washington and Oregon seemed to go out of their way to be welcoming and friendly. It seemed everywhere we went we encountered people who smiled, spoke to us before we spoke to them and wanted to know how we were and where we were from. 

In a town in Oregon (I forget which one), on a day when we needed to restock on some provisions, we went to a Target store. Conservatively, I would say a half-dozen employees greeted us with smiles and asked if they could help us with anything. For one item I needed, a female employee dropped what she was doing and walked with me to the aisle where the item was located. Whether restocking shelves or working the checkout line, they could not have been friendlier. 

This is largely what we experienced in stores, restaurants and hotels along coastal Washington and Oregon. Refreshing to say the least. They might have spoken with a different accent and inflection in their voices, but they were every bit as friendly and pleasant as the people I generally encounter in the South. 

The big difference? That would be the political environment. I live in a very RED state. Like many parts of the country, we are having primary elections. In Tennessee, that means Republicans are running against each other to see who will face a Democratic opponent in November. And around here, the person who wins the GOP primary, unless something just this side of a miracle happens, is already the presumptive candidate who will prevail in November's general election. 

For example, one of our current Tennessee senators, Marsha Blackburn, is running against two opponents in the Republican race for governor. She is heavily favored.  I guess there is also a Democratic primary, but I could not tell you who any of their candidates are. 

But I can tell you this: when Marsha wins the GOP primary, she will be pretty safe to start measuring for curtains in the Governor's Mansion. That's how red we are here. 

Her commercials and ads, like those of her Republican colleagues running for other offices, feature narratives of how she "stands with President Trump" and of course, Marsha has been fortunate enough (if you want to call it that) to literally stand beside the prez in the Oval Office and you can bet we see those images often. 

In Oregon, it is a completely different vibe. Whenever we happened to be in hearing or seeing range of a television, we saw commercials for Democratic office seekers promising how they would "stand up to Donald Trump" and the perceived ills he has brought upon their state and the country at large. 

Signage was similar, with promises to fight Trump and ICE. Quite the contrast with where I reside. 

It turns out we can learn a lot from a temporary change in geography.  

See you back here soon.