I just realized yesterday that I don't like change. I used to think I liked new things and enjoyed the latest in cutting edge stuff, but maybe I don't.
I went to my bank's ATM and
everything was different. Geez. I'm just trying to get money for a Dove
bar. Now the instructions are new, the choices I have to make are
different, even the questions they ask disorient me. Nothing I did to
get money was the same. "What was wrong with the old way?"
I found myself asking no one in particular.
Twice now I've been back to the new
improved ATM. I'm still startled when confronted with the faster,
easier, more colorful and convenient way of getting my money. I'm
a creature of habit who relies on the regular order of things. Things
being the SAME. The reason is so I can put myself on auto pilot and not
have to think. When I drive downtown I'm in a zone. In fact I've
been all the way into the city sometimes before realizing I was only
going to a friend's house.
I hate having to think about what I'm doing. And this new ATM thing
hurts my brain. I can't just mindlessly drive up and get money out of
my dwindling account. I have to think what I'm doing and pay
attention. Is there anything more annoying?
There are other things that I count on to stay the same, but they are changing now too.
My toothpaste. Before I just
used to get a tube of Crest. I weathered the tartar control,
breath control, birth control and other variations. But now it
doesn't even come in a tube anymore. How is that possible? Now
you can choose between four or five hundred [bet you think I'm
exaggerating] different flavors in this new upside down dispenser
do-dad. Wintergreen. Spearmint. Peppermint. Chocolate Mint. Mint Julep.
Lime, Cinnamon, Orange, Toasted Almond, Aluminum, Raccoon. With more
whitening, even more whitening than that, and so much whitening you'll
glow in the dark. Ack.
Don't do this to me. I don't even recognize my neighborhood anymore.
All the houses as I knew them are gone. Instead there are huge
replacements with turrets lining my entire street now. I feel
like a two car garage floating in a sea of McMansions. And my
favorite square back Jeep style is history. Not my own Jeep. of course,
will drive until I'm asked to stay off the roads. The new version of
the square back looks like something on steroids, thick with chrome and
gansta rap colors.
Dogs are changing too. Labs and goldens are now poodledoodles,
labratrievers, and dingleberries, strange cross breeds of two perfectly
good animals created on a whim so someone can make big bucks selling
you something new and different to walk on a leash and pick up poop
after. Are there any collies left?
There are some happy moments from time to time. Some trips down memory
lane that give me hope. They brought back Clove and Blackjack gum for
awhile. I can still buy a new Lava Lamp.
A local dairy here sells its milk in glass bottles. And they'll deliver
it to your back door, too. Or course it costs more, but I swear it
tastes better than milk out of a carton, even though it's easier to
drink milk out of the carton when you're standing in front of the
More good news -- I can purchase an old fashioned Dairy Queen sundae -- that tasty
palm oil blend of vanilla flavored whipped styrofoam with extra
chocolate sauce. Is there nothing better after a five course meal at
Charlie Trotter's? I think not.
Over time I've learned to adjust. In the seventies I had to learn to
pump gas and check my own oil. But I was more than a little grateful
for Pampers. In the eighties I reluctantly embraced the world of
waxing. If only to wear the new high cut bathing suits. In the nineties I
finally accepted the microwave, the computer and the thong. And for the
past six years I've happily endured instant messages from strange men
who can't spell. Just so I can have a social life.
But sometimes it just feels like change happens only for the purpose of
making a change. Not for any reason that makes sense to me.