Food Warnings, Collar Stays and Other Foulups

At 10 this morning, I went into the Starbucks on Main Street in East Hampton and ordered what I always order in the morning.

“Decaf cappuccino grande with one Equal.”

“We don’t carry Equal anymore,” the barista said. “We have Splenda.”

“I don’t like Spenda,” I said.

“Well, it’s over there,” he said, pointing.

“What happened with Equal?” I asked.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Next?”

Later, somebody told me that Equal causes cancer. So I went online to read about it. Turns out you’d have to eat 20 packets a day to get cancer. I eat two. One with my morning yogurt and the other with the cappuccino later downtown. And I have been doing this every day for years without getting cancer.

Maybe I’ve just been lucky. So what to do?

After much internal debate, I decided to continue using Equal. I reasoned that even if you can drop Equal down from 20 a day to 10 and still get cancer, it’s still a long way to two.

So I’ll take the risk. But I’ll keep an eye on things.

Next I went to the CVS next to the East Hampton Post Office to pick up a prescription. It was an ointment a doctor had ordered.

The prescription was ready, the lady at the counter said. But there was a problem. She called the pharmacist over to explain.

“It could be dangerous,” the pharmacist said. “It can lower your immune system. Make you more likely.”

“To what?”

“Likely to get a bacterial infection,” she whispered.

“Should I use it?” I asked.

“Yes. Of course. Just be aware of it.”

So I’m gonna do that. And just be aware of it.

Returning home, I found a small package from Amazon on the front porch. I took it inside and opened it. Inside was a box of plastic collar stays.

I’d ordered them earlier in the week. It seemed ridiculously cheap. You got 100 collar stays for $6.75.

Collar stays are for men who wear formal shirts with collars. There is a tiny sleeve that runs diagonally on the underside of the collar to its tip. You might never have known that. Well, I didn’t. But if you slide a stay into the sleeve, the collar stands up stiff and true. Back in Victorian times, men did that. You see the stiff collars in pictures. I thought this was really cool.

So I went to Brooks Brothers in Southampton and bought a shirt with collar stays, went to a dressing room and put it on. But when the day ended and I took it off, I forgot to slide the stays back out. So they went through the wash. And they were gone. Well, I thought, I’ll order more stays. How much could they be?

One hundred Stays for $6.75? Well that’s Amazon for you. A real bargain. But then I saw this little sticker on the side of the plastic box they came in.

“Warning: This product can expose you to chemicals including acrylonitrile, which is known to the state of California to cause cancer, and 1,3-butadiene, which is known to the state of California to cause cancer and birth defects or other reproductive harm. For more information, go to P65Warnings.ca.gov.”

Aha, I thought. No wonder they sell 100 stays for $6.75. This box was on a shelf waiting to be thrown out. Meanwhile, I’d worn those other collar stays. So just in case, I went into the bathroom and looked at my neck in the mirror. Looked okay. What to do? Risk it? What if I’m wrong?

“He died from using dangerous collar stays,” a man would whisper at my funeral.

Well, I’ll keep an eye on it, like everything else.

Later that afternoon, I got a phone call from an online pharmacy that sends me a particular pill. They call me when something is ready. Or when something is amiss. Almost all the calls come when I’m taking a shower. Or on a Zoom call. Or am otherwise engaged. It’s very annoying. Are they using a tracking device to have some fun with me?

Anyway, as it always does, the robot asked if it were me he was talking to. I said yes. Then, for my safety, he asked my zip code and my street address. Finally, my date of birth.

So I spoke my date of birth. And this time the robot said, “Sorry, that’s not correct. Goodbye.” And hung up. They’d caught me. Trying to steal Dan’s information.

But it was my date of birth. It’s always been my date of birth! So I tried again and the same thing happened. How terrible.

“I’d better call these people and straighten this out,” I said after they hung up on me that second time.

And again they hung up on me. Jeez! Now what?

Just before bed, I made myself a glass of chocolate milk to calm myself down. The milk was Organic Whole Milk made by Stonyfield. I’d got it at the One Stop Market on Springs Fireplace Road.

Here’s what was written on the side of the milk carton.

“At Stonyfield Organic we’ve cared about the organic fields where our cows graze and the fields where our fruits and veggies grow for over 35 years. Today we extend that commitment to new fields, the playing fields. Over 26 million kids play sports on fields and 65% of fields are sprayed with harmful pesticides. It’s time for a change! Join Stonyfield Organic to play free. stonyfield.com/playfree. And act now to change your community and your own backyard!”

That night, I dreamed. I dreamed of what’s better today than yesterday. Must be something.

We’ve landed on the moon, I dreamed. But no, that was yesterday.

Wait a minute. Today we have luggage that has wheels. That’s something. We didn’t used to have wheels. We had to drag our heavy luggage everywhere. All those trips I took abroad with my three suitcases plus my 25-pound shortwave radio? Awful.

What took us so long to think of wheels? We had the wheel.

I woke just before dawn. Went to a window. In the light of the moon, I looked out across our backyard where a full moon was rising over the woods beyond. And there was the sound of hoofbeats and cows mooing.

The protest had begun.