Staying Anchored and Marking Time

The Meaning of Routines

William Sundwick

About two years ago, I wrote a post for Warp & Woof called “Celebrating Banality.” It was a defense of the banal, quotidian routines in life. They were contrasted with the relatively rare moments of exhilaration from new experiences that our culture tends to equate with creativity or a “meaningful” life.

I’m now two years older, seems like it might be time for an update. Much of my beloved banality has survived. I still eat the same breakfasts and lunches I did two years ago, sleep patterns remain the same, and watching TV late at night with my wife continues to be a hallowed tradition. I still play games by devising alternating patterns on a complexity continuum for executing my routines. I will always do my neighborhood walks in the same order (counterclockwise from my house) for the complete eight-day circuit of my eight different routes, then start over. Gym workouts include back strengthening on nautilus equipment for two of the four sessions each week, but not a third day – unless I anticipate play dates with grandchildren which require lifting and carrying them. Other contingency patterns work for other routines, depending on the number of choices available for any given task.

But there have also been some changes of routines. I am now off the Board of Deacons at my church (3-year terms), hence have fewer regular evening meetings to attend, and fewer joint projects with folks at church. A replacement for that, however, is that I have gone “all-in” with my Daytime Writers Group, making blogging nearly a full-time pursuit. And, the routines around grandfathering have also changed. Parents’ work schedules no longer require frequent afternoon babysitting. Although more independent now, Owen has a new baby sister!

Staying anchored via routines is what others expect of us. They’re our real world. Marking time is what we do when we “recharge” for the next new thing. But those new things often have obstacles in their path – at our age, old routines often die hard. As much as I love my neighborhood walks, losing one of the eight different routes recently due to park maintenance in Falls Church caused real discomfort when I had to reconfigure that route! It’s always easier if routines remain unchanged when you get old.

And, because I am generally slower to react to new stimuli, I may not even recognize when an old routine is no longer working for me. I spend too much time on Facebook. Social media surfing has grown rather than subsided over the past two years, and now consumes much of my day – despite warnings from many pundits about its addictive properties. It’s marking time, but not in a good way.

Physical mobility is even more important to me now than two years ago. My stretching exercises and weights at home, as well as my cardio-intensive gym workouts, have become more critical – at least in my mind. I’ve experienced no decline in mobility but am more afraid of it for the future. Exercise helps me stay anchored.

It’s also possible that the range of future possibilities is greater now than two years ago. At least, I now look forward to developments that were less clear then. Maintaining the status quo of a democratic society has become a greater challenge, seemingly more threatened than even two years ago. I anticipate seeing at least two grandchildren growing up (well, getting bigger). I want them to have as many of the fruits that I was privileged to share as I can provide. Two years ago, I was still enjoying the freedom from the social constraints of my pre-retirement work environment. Today I place social interconnection at the top of my list of desirable traits in society.

My writing for Warp & Woof, as well as micro-blogging in Facebook discussion groups, has taken the form of a meta-analysis of reality. More than any other activity in which I engage, it keeps me anchored. Each post marks time until the next one. And, I think I don’t really care if anybody reads my writing (I do get feedback from Facebook friends and discussion group members, as well as Daytime Writers). At least I’ve put it out there. Anybody can discover it. And, listening to podcasts while on my neighborhood walks helps me explore that meta-analysis for later use in my writing.

Establishing routines, whether writing, exercise, or social interaction, is like a toddler learning to walk. Place one foot in front of the other, while maintaining balance. With practice comes greater confidence. And as you get good at the routines, you can even learn how to fit other people into them. They can support your routines, rather than interfere with them.

What happens when you must stop a routine? If physical difficulty, or danger, requires a replacement for the old routine, then you unlearn the old behavior, as painful as that can be as we age. The replacement therapy may take the form of help from others in your life, or systematic re-education. Ultimately, you will ask yourself the question: why do I need to change?  The answer will likely be you are harming your health, or others are making new demands on you, or that you’re simply missing something in your life, even if you can’t quite identify it. If none of these apply, maybe you don’t need to change!

Will I have another update in reporting my routines? It may depend on other people in my life forcing change on me. Or, it may be because of something I see as a “decline” – I hope not! Change when you’re over 70, not to be taken lightly.

How Painful Can a 5-mile-per-hour Collision Be?

Wrestling with GEICO and Koons Body Shop

William Sundwick

This is a No Good Deed Goes Unpunished (NGDGU) story. One sunny, thoroughly pleasant, Sunday afternoon in October, near the end of the fall election campaign, I was eager to get my Arlington Dems canvassing commitments behind me. I had signed up for a three-hour shift that afternoon, showed up at the staging home, collected my turf map, clipboard, pen, and (I thought) my handout materials. It was the same routine I had followed the day before, from the same home base. I checked Google Maps for directions to the turf neighborhood, threw everything in my car, and headed out.

Reaching the neighborhood, not unfamiliar to me in North Arlington, I found a parking space on the street.

As I collected my clipboard, turf map, and began to walk toward the first door on my map, I realized that I FORGOT the handouts! I would have nothing to leave at most of the houses (canvassing always seems to find the bulk of voters not home, or just refusing to answer their door). I knew going back would delay my mission. But, after evaluating how long I thought it would take to cover the turf, I decided to do it anyway to collect my packet of handouts.

That was my fatal error. The delay was long enough for me to feel rushed, and embarrassed, when I retraced my route back to the base. Also, it used up battery range on my Chevy Volt EV, something which inexplicably still causes me anxiety (it shouldn’t, as the Volt has an “auxiliary” gasoline engine which extends range to 200+ miles). In any case, I impatiently set out again for the turf neighborhood following a slightly different route. The sun was getting lower now. It was the 4-way stop at Little Falls Road and Harrison Street that got me.

I was southbound on Harrison. I stopped, let the car to my right, heading northeast on Little Falls, proceed through the intersection. There was a second vehicle behind that one, a late model Toyota Highlander (bigger than me). Its driver had the bright sunlight obscuring her view to her left (me). Virginia rules of the road, which I have always followed, allow for only one car at a stop sign at a time. If vehicles are queued up at the sign, they must advance only to the sign, not proceed into the intersection without stopping. The Highlander behaved as if it were in tow behind the first car and didn’t stop. But I had proceeded into the intersection after that first car. Collision resulted: Highlander front bumper connected to Volt front passenger door and right front wheel well.

Speeds probably didn’t exceed five miles per hour. There were no injuries, no air bags deployed. But, lots of damage to little Volt, very little to big Highlander! 

As we moved out of the intersection, we became aware that a witness had also kindly stopped to assist. This was good for me, not so good for the other driver. As I tried to reach somebody at GEICO, the witness (an attorney with the firm of a family friend) said he “saw it all” and called the police. But they would not send a car. I needed a tow, the Highlander did not.

We were all very polite. I made sure the other driver was all right. Her husband then arrived. After we exchanged information, including a business card from the witness, they all drove away. I called my wife, then waited for my tow. 

GEICO has a desk at Koons Body Shop in Falls Church, within easy walking distance of my house. But it was a Sunday afternoon. So, I rode along, filled out a form, sealed it with my keys in an envelope, dropped it in the after-hours slot. I collected my canvassing materials, walked home, then took them all back to the base in our other car – no canvassing from me that bright October Sunday!

Next day I was contacted by Koons and my GEICO insurance adjuster. By Tuesday, I walked back to Koons, picked up my estimate -- $9000 (Yipes!). I had a $500 deductible, and the adjuster initially indicated a shared liability, meaning I would be out the $500. GEICO allows me $900 for car rental while my vehicle is being repaired. The adjuster did some math in his head estimating how many days that would last. Seemed like I had plenty of time, he thought. He was wrong.

The next serious miscalculation was caused by my own vulnerability in this stressful situation. The Enterprise rental agent managed to sell me a $20/day insurance policy for the rental car. After my experience of the last two days, I felt I couldn’t say no – despite her assurances that the decision was mine, entirely optional. Also, my GEICO adjuster failed to calculate fees and taxes added onto the per day Enterprise rental (which he also underestimated). That $900 allowance would only last a month. I didn’t see my Volt again for seven weeks.

Costs were mounting fast. The first break in my favor came when I insisted that GEICO contact my witness – they had not done so previously. This resulted in the liability adjuster (the other driver was also insured by GEICO) declaring the liability to be entirely on the other driver. Victory! Now, the $500 deductible, at least, would be against her policy. Witnesses are good.

I was left to struggle with Koons Body Shop. Why was it taking so long? Well, they said, the parts had to be shipped piecemeal. Many front suspension components were needed. This took time. But my $900 rental allowance would be running out soon, not to mention the daily rate insurance that I was paying.

All the parts were received and installed, including a new battery for the electric drive. But then the system had to be fully charged (it doesn’t come that way, apparently). This led to another delay when Koons couldn’t seem to charge it. They towed it to Koons Chevrolet at Tysons Corner, where a certified Volt technician could give it a try. But I knew from previous service experience there, the circuit-riding Volt technician is only at their dealer two days per week. When he arrived, he was able to charge the vehicle. Koons Chevy then towed the still unassembled, still unpainted car back to the Body Shop in Falls Church. When I complained about the delays, that I was now paying a daily rate for my Enterprise Ford Fusion Hybrid (economical, yes – but not zero gas like my Volt), Koons offered me a “loaner” (technically another rental, but free). I accepted.

All this time, I had been unable to speak with the Koons estimator who failed to return any of the phone messages I left her. She was “very busy” said her manager, and updates on the status of my car were not forthcoming.

While waiting for completion of all the work on my Volt, I will admit to enjoying that loaner. The Ford Escape with the optional “big” EcoBoost engine was a blast to drive! Of course, the penalty for that fun driving was reduced fuel efficiency compared to the Fusion, but it was just temporary.

One day, returning from an errand on Lee Highway, I was felled by one of those “traffic calming” protruding curbs. Both left tires destroyed! Perhaps this wouldn’t have happened on a car I was more familiar with. It happened to me driving a loaner.  I had long suspected that someday I would be caught by those fiendish safety features Arlington traffic engineers were installing around the county.

I called AAA for a tow to the AAA Service Center not more than a block-and-a-half from Koons Body Shop. They accommodated me with the cheapest tires that would fit, no alignment. I was still out $380. I read the fine print of my “rental” contract only after the tires were already installed. It said I was supposed to return the car to Koons after any such incident – they wanted the money for repairs!

In the end, there was no additional cost to me for violating the terms of my contract. I believe I had extracted enough contrition and apology from the Koons Body Shop manager that he felt he couldn’t lean on me. So, after seven weeks, I finally reclaimed my beloved Chevy Volt. It appeared none the worse for wear. I was out only about $1100 for an accident that was not my fault, but which would have been truly catastrophic without the insurance coverage.

The whole experience did enlighten me about new car choices when I start shopping again later this year. I learned that bigger cars crush smaller cars in collisions. I learned that fun-to-drive dynamics may come with a penalty in fuel economy. But despite the greater fuel efficiency of that rental Ford Fusion Hybrid, and its safety advantage, I’m not too thrilled by big cars. Give me small and maneuverable over hulking tank or limo, any day.

These things I’ve learned. But, venturing out by car to do good works. That remains sacred.

Panjshir

A Neighborhood Restaurant for Afghan Comfort Food

William Sundwick

Panjshir, a Falls Church eatery since 1985, moved to a new strip mall on the other side of the Little City in 2016. It’s now located even closer to my North Arlington neighborhood. And, neighborhood restaurant it is. The Washington Post reviewer in 2013 included it in a series of “$20 diners.” My wife and I find it perfect for an impromptu winter outing when we don’t want to cook! Like this New Year’s Eve.

We generally don’t make plans for NYE celebration, preferring to stay in and recuperate from the hectic Christmas holiday. But, part of that recuperation can be dinner out at a nearby comfortable restaurant. The first one that comes to mind for such a spontaneous decision is Panjshir. No reservations needed.

It’s now housed on E. Fairfax Street between E. Broad and S. Washington Streets, in a little strip mall next door to the Audacious Aleworks Brewery and Pro Bike FC bike shop. Whenever I’ve been there, the bike shop is closed, and the brewery is more crowded than Panjshir!

Unlike its dimly lit previous location on W. Broad, near the West Falls Church metro station, this new place is much brighter, appealing to my wife, who always wants to see what she’s eating. The décor is similar, with some traditional Afghan tribal accoutrements, including swords, hanging on the walls. There is now a picturesque view out the plate glass window in front – of the parking lot (so you can keep track of your car?). For an inexpensive neighborhood eatery, it’s fine. We wouldn’t go for atmospherics, anyway.

The restaurant’s name came from its original owner, Aziz Niazy, who opened it in 1985. The Panjshir Valley had recently been in the news as the scene of the climactic battle where Ahmad Massoud and the Northern Alliance finally drove the Soviet Army from the country. And, in the same Panjshir Valley a decade or so later, Massoud also successfully fought off the Taliban – a heroic past for the region. However. the cuisine on the menu is more characteristic of Kabul, about 90 miles Southwest of the Valley. Aziz Niazy eventually retired, turning over management of the restaurant to his son, Esmat. Daughter Maria runs the kitchen and has mentored a young Honduran woman as her sous chef.

While the menu has a variety of traditional Afghan dishes and appetizers, including much vegetarian fare, we always order our same favorites. We start with Sambosay Goshti, fried meat pastries, not unlike Lebanese Sambousek, and Aushak, a very Afghan dumpling filled with scallions and topped with seasoned yogurt, mint, and ground beef. A spicy cilantro chutney  makes a perfect dip for both appetizers. Entrée for my wife and I will always be the Afghan national dish – Quabili Palow. It is a seasoned rice plate with lamb, topped with carrot strips, almonds and raisins. Delicious, and filling. When we feel relaxed enough for dessert, as we did on New Year’s Eve, it will be the exquisite Gosh-e-feel (or “elephant ear”), a sugary fried pastry in the shape of the elephant’s ear, and cardamon tea. Afghan cuisine, as one might expect from the geography, is notably lacking in seafood! Even freshwater fish are missing from the menu.

Part of the ambience of any restaurant is the sound. Crowded restaurants are often too noisy to have a conversation across a table, but Panjshir has never been that crowded when we’ve been there. It’s always easy to have a quiet, private conversation. The recorded music is not authentic Afghan, but a continuous loop of classical Spanish guitar. It seems to fit very nicely with the high overall relaxation quotient that draws us back to the place. The volume is perfect. We have never been disappointed by the food, the attentive service, or the casual atmosphere. Panjshir is truly an oasis of Afghan comfort food only slightly off the beaten track of the inner NoVa neighborhoods.

Whew! Made It!

Winning the Holiday Stress Game

William Sundwick

Little kids love to think about presents from Santa. I certainly did. And, as a teenager, I was eager to spend New Year’s Eve with my cousins in their suburban home. But, in adulthood, it’s all changed. It is still about me. But fear, obligation, and guilt have replaced the excitement and anticipation I remember from childhood.

If only I could start planning earlier. But Thanksgiving preps for the big meal, seemingly make it the earliest possible start date – and needed relaxation/recovery after that Thursday production means, realistically, beginning shopping only the following week, then setting calendar dates for various social obligations.

 My wife always bears the brunt of the stress, for she still works full-time. And, she is the one with the relatives in California! Their gifts, yet to be bought, must be shipped no later than Thursday, Dec. 20. Not to mention the deep conflicts with her sister, my wife the “good” daughter who stayed close to her parents until the end. Her older sister, and husband, escaping to California.

It is two weeks into December before we can even decide who among the immediate family and next- door neighbors (virtual family) will host which get-togethers. Christmas Eve, Christmas Morning, Christmas Dinner, all planned separately. Everybody wants a piece of the action (except younger sons of both families, free from the burden of hosting because they lack houses of their own). And, of course, the grandkids are also free of much responsibility -- Brennan, age 10, does gift Owen, age 3, Mira, age 4 months relies on gifts from adults, gives none herself! Except for the growing numbers of grandchildren, it’s the same every year. You’d think it would be easier by now.

Decorations, including outdoor lights, are deployed by end of second week in December. Tree comes only in third week, trimmed by me -- alone, always – can’t convince wife to get into the spirit. Bah, humbug!

Need to allow time to wrap everything for everybody. This is the most excruciating part of Christmas for me – I am wrapping-challenged, both spatially and small motor coordination-wise.

Wife does all the shopping and wrapping for her sister, brother-in-law, their daughters and grandchildren in California. I manage to deliver the three large shipping boxes to the post office by Thursday afternoon, December 20.  Priority mail, appropriate insurance. In the meantime, I have been shopping via both Amazon and Tysons Corner for wife and sons, including a trip to Best Buy. (Say what you will about Amazon, but on-line shopping has done a wonderful job of reducing the stress of holiday crowds). We jointly ventured to brick-and-mortar stores in Falls Church for each other and our two grandchildren. Not so bad as the giant Tysons Corner Center! Although the mall does allow me to quickly get my prescribed 10,000 steps for FitBit.

Christmas Eve church service is no longer a thing for us, since the 11:00 candlelight service has ended.  It hasn’t been a thing in our two sons’ lives for much longer. Not so our next-door neighbors. Linda’s Christmas Eve dinner will not be served until after they return from their early evening mass. Getting a little late for three-year-old Owen’s bedtime.

Son and daughter-in-law have decreed that Christmas morning will be at their house, including presents for Owen and baby sister, Mira. Brunch for all. Since the tree at our house is laden with too many presents to reasonably open in one morning, we select a small sample for Owen and Mira, and drive over.

The Christmas orgy of flying gift wrap, handing out presents to each person assembled, serving Christmas dinner with snacks and beverages beforehand, desserts after, will be – as it is every year – at our house later in the day.

My wife does not fully partake of the orgy – she is too busy in the kitchen. She takes breaks to open presents. Only her husband will relieve her in dinner prep. My two sons? My daughter-in-law? Where are they? Why, they are entertaining the grandkids, of course! And themselves, by extension.

Cleanup continues late into Christmas night, with the good china and stemware waiting until the following morning when we are more alert.

Since county trash collection has been postponed until Wednesday, all gift wrapping is hurriedly collected in one big bag, without separation into recyclables vs. non-recyclables – and placed in the recycling cart (my bad, I thought my wife had sorted through the bag first!). American Disposal Services, the waste contractor, must have been prepared for this eventuality on the day after Christmas (Boxing Day in the UK, perhaps Recycling Bin Day here?).

One secret to surviving the stress of all this holiday anxiety is not to plan anything for New Years Eve! Nothing should ever be on us for that anniversary. And, we usually don’t risk going out, either.

Peaceful reflection on what we have accomplished during the preceding month or so of uninterrupted angst is the best antidote to stress. My wife will bake more, but because she wants to – not because anybody expects it. And, our “holiday letter” to all our remote friends and relatives gets delivered in generic “holiday” cards (not Christmas), on a relaxed schedule around Epiphany.

The pushing stops. The living-up-to-expectations gone. My wife returns to work. I go back to my daily retirement routines – writing for my blog, neighborhood walks, regular workouts at the gym. And, all the gift returns restore the status quo pro ante of the holiday season. As though it never happened. When the tree goes out to the curb for the second special pickup, all that is left is to wonder if we can somehow do better next year at stress reduction – nah! Too many other things to think about.