Monday - 03/08/2021 — Call me old-fashioned, but I remember with pleasure the days when I could go into a store to buy a pair of jeans and all I had to do was get one that was the right size around the waist—my real waist. None of this high-rise, low-rise, boot leg, flared leg, skinny or not, petite, regular, tall, extra-tall, and so on ad infinitum. If they were too long, I hemmed them up. If they were too short, I didn’t buy them in the first place.
A couple of days ago I decided it was time to order some new checks. A bunch of years ago I ordered boxes and boxes of checks, figuring that I might as well stock up, since they’d last me for seven or eight years. And I was right. They did. But then the bank I used changed names (and routing number) two years ago. They said the old checks would still work, but I’m working on my very last book of checks now, so it’s time to get myself up to snuff.
This is what I found when I went online to do the ordering. It was only the first page of many. Why on earth do we need that many choices?
Since when do we have to express our personality through the checks we write? I won’t hold it against you if you like fancy checks, but I do admit to wondering a bit about an acquaintance of mine who is a college professor. She has checks that are decorated with Hello Kitty images.
I’m obviously not into “cutesy” stuff. Give me plain jeans every time.
Of course, since the pandemic hit, I’ve been living in sweatpants. Plain ordinary sweatpants.
p.s. I’m getting my first COVID vaccination later today. I’ll be wearing my sweatpants when I do.
