Dennis' Dislike

Ruffling Feathers

Other than an occasional vegetarian, I don’t run across too many people who don’t eat poultry, chicken in particular. And, if the next Great War fought on this earth is anything like the apocalypse many feel it will be, then I’m going on record to
say vegetarians are going to experience a change of heart and a change of diet.

Meanwhile, I’ll try to be more tolerant of those whose dietary preferences clash with mine. That’s something that would have made a good New
Year’s resolution for me, had I thought of it sooner.

Since this article is a continuation of comments last week on how I consider friendships formed in the workplace an unheralded corporate fringe benefit,
perhaps, it’s time to resume the adventure of my travel to Kenosha, Wisconsin a few days ago.

When Wayne Hunter and I departed Cape Girardeau, Missouri, Tuesday morning we knew we would be meeting Mark Frank and Dennis Conn in Champaign, Illinois, before continuing the drive to Kenosha. Mark is a relative newcomer to the team of retail technology consultants in our region, but Dennis Conn came over on the Mayflower (joke).

I first met Dennis when we both had managerial positions in our respective wholesale divisions. Dennis managed the Retail Technology Department for J.M. Jones in Champaign, and I was his counterpart for Lewis Grocer Co., Indianola, Mississippi. In 1990, our companies were already a part of SUPERVALU, spelled Super Valu in those days, but our retail customers knew us better by our division names, J.M. Jones and Lewis Grocer.

Somewhere on the Kenosha trail, Dennis shared with us, "I don’t eat chicken."

It was a nugget of knowledge I had allowed to slip my mind, but as soon as he mentioned it, I remembered hearing him make a similar comment last year at one of our regional meetings.

Dennis forgave my forgetfulness and commented, "But, you’d think my parents could remember I don’t eat poultry! Yet, every Thanksgiving, Mom tries to push some turkey on me. Sometimes, she puts chicken or turkey in something thinking she can fool me into eating it."

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Fringe Benefits

Were the income derived from my employment the sole benefit found in my working for SUPERVALU, I’d be grateful, but that’s only a small part of the big picture. Few, who work for others ever feel their income matches their worth or contribution to the success of his or her employer and perhaps their claim is valid, but I decided long ago to be content with my earnings and to strive to live within my means.

That’s not to say I’d turn down an annual raise with, “No thanks, I’m already making enough to meet my needs,” or another foolish comment, but there’s more to a job than income alone.

These days, benefits are a huge consideration, especially health benefits. Health benefits have become so huge that employers struggle in striking the proper balance of coverage for all employees, and in the face of ever-rising costs often pass some of their costs along to employees.

Medical insurance, prescription drug coverage, dental, and vision plans, along with flexible spending accounts, savings, and retirement plans are other offers corporations use to attract and keep employees. I’m lucky enough to qualify for a company car and all the benefits associated with it. According to SUPERVALU, their share of my total benefits is fifty-five percent of my annual salary, with thirteen percent of this for health care and none of these calculations include the company car. But, there’s more to work than wages and corporate benefits.

In any organization, people make the difference, and in my working for SUPERVALU over the last half-century, or there about, people have certainly made a difference in my life. Some of the finest people I know, I’ve been privileged to work with in an office setting, or as a field associate, and I must include a few of my bosses along the way. Certainly, I would be remiss in not including those customers I’m also privileged to know and serve. I’ve been blessed with friendships and employee relationships in the workforce. <Continue Reading>

Having An EGD

For a number of years, possibly fifteen, I’ve experienced difficulty in swallowing certain foods. Meats, when not sufficiently chewed, such as chicken and beef were among the foods most difficult to ingest beyond the esophagus. However, I have also experienced swallowing problems with cornbread and spicy foods.

Rather than see a doctor about the condition I generally describe as “my swallowing problem,” I chose to explore ways to reduce the occurrences of the problem. I discovered that whenever food felt lodged in my esophagus I was in no danger of choking for my air passage was not blocked. I found that by consuming a carbonated beverage at mealtime, there would be enough gas pressure in my stomach so that a self-induced burp could coax the blockage loose. I learned to chew food more thoroughly and to not hurry my eating. This past year, I also learned to talk less while eating and to concentrate more on chewing and swallowing.

My swallowing problem was not life-threatening, and I considered it a minor inconvenience to the enjoyment of eating. It was something to respect rather than fear. I might not have done anything about it in the way of seeing a doctor, except that in thinking some recent chest pain might be related to my heart, I described my esophageal experiences to my cardiologist. He convinced me I needed to have my esophagus checked by his use of a single word, cancer.

As I recall he stated, “What you have is not normal…if unchecked and untreated, it could turn into cancer.”

I laugh off my chances of contracting certain diseases and disorders, but cancer gets my attention. There have been too many folks in my family diagnosed and treated for cancer (some died with the disease) for me not to take cancer seriously. And, having personally survived prostate cancer, I’d just as soon not take on another cancer challenge.

My cardiologist made an appointment for me to see a gastroenterologist in early December. I was told a test would be needed in order to render a diagnosis and/or treat my swallowing problem. I had hoped to get the test completed prior to 2008, but I was told by a “scheduler” (not only are physicians specialists, now office personnel are specialists, too) that was not possible and since the new appointment calendar had not arrived, I would have to wait a few days before setting a date for the test. <Continue reading>

Rediscovery Orange

It had been so long since I had eaten a freshly peeled orange that I had forgotten how good one can be. And, I probably wouldn’t have eating one recently had it not been for the head cold that came my way the week before Christmas. There was a time when a common cold lasted seven days if untreated, and if one went to a doctor it would take a week to get over the cold. I believe my recent head cold lasted twelve days, and I let it run its course except for a couple days in which I took a few Benadryl.

As good as Christmas Dinner was and as many sweets as we had to go with meals or simply to snack on, I really didn’t overeat. Perhaps, my sense of smell was reduced, but the foods I would normally have greatly enjoyed, just didn’t make the grade. Instead of enjoying meals, I came to rely upon snacks to satisfy my hunger cravings. The best snacks I could find were salted nuts and party mix, and an occasional glass of eggnog.

Preparing for Christmas, Barbara bought a sack of juice oranges for use in a fruit salad and for a decorative touch, piercing some and inserting cloves band-like around the oranges. I think Barbara was inspired by a Martha Stewart TV program to reproduce something she had seen her mother do. I think both the oranges and the cloves suffer from such an arrangement, though remaining edible for anyone who can tolerate the mixed flavors of orange-scented cloves or clove-scented oranges. Personally, I try to limit my consumption of foods flavored with cloves to pickled peaches, which is the only food I still enjoy that is laced with cloves. Continue reading>>

Cheryl And Jerry Wed

Somewhere in the ancestral gene pool of my dear wife, there must have been an overabundance of “designer” genes. And, while Barbara Anne has a fair touch when it comes to home decorating, her daughter (Rayanne) and her niece (Cheryl) got double portions. Obviously, whatever talent my daughter has for decorating is something that did not come from me. Once I get all the home furnishings set in place, I’m good for life or the life of the furnishings.

If there were but three objects in my living room, Rayanne would long ago have run out of possible ways to arrange or order them, as there are only six different ways to arrange three items. Four items would present a greater challenge and allow for twenty-four possible arrangements, but with eight items (five pieces of stuffed furniture and three tables) the task would require 40, 320 possibilities. I’m pretty sure Rayanne’s past the twenty-four mark, but is no where near the 40k amount. Note: The eight items mentioned do not include an almost immovable armoire or the piano or the many lamps and set-abouts.

Cheryl has a good eye for room décor and arrangement, but she doesn’t come to see us as often as Rayanne, nor is she inclined to redecorate our place unless asked. But, rest assured, Cheryl will add her creative touch to any house she calls home.

After graduating from high school in Ripley, Cheryl married and moved to Memphis and found work at the J. Strickland Company, where she’s worked for more than thirty years. After her marriage faltered, she and her husband divorced. After a few years, Cheryl found an ex-athlete from Ole Miss. The two were happily married for several years, before developing a marital problem. They parted ways via a legal separation and were eventually divorced.

In her second single-again period, Cheryl found herself supported by a group of close friends and a few relatives, and she thrived. She bought a new house in Southaven, joined a Baptist Church nearby, and led a fairly active social life. She wasn’t exactly looking for a third husband, but she found one among the overlooked four-leafed clovers in her life.

Cheryl originally knew Jerry and Terri Gowen as friends of her and her husband. Jerry and Terri parted company a few years ago, and at the time, neither Cheryl nor Jerry ever thought they’d fall in love with each other. Perhaps, they might not have had Jerry’s daughter, Ashley, not recognized the opportunity to match-make her dad and Cheryl. As I understand it, Ashley gave Cheryl and Jerry each other’s email address and suggested mutual contact. The result was Cheryl and Jerry met for lunch, renewed their friendship, began dating, and in a relatively short time discovered they were in love. <continue reading>

Belmont Turnout

The folks at First Baptist Church, Belmont, MS, are supportive of their church’s music ministry, which includes a strong and vocally powerful Adult Choir and a budding hand-bell program. My daughter, Rayanne Adams, has served for the past few years as organist and occasionally fills in for the pianist. From what I hear, the small church is quite proud of its organist, and I wasn’t surprised to learn the church planned to provide its church van to transport a group who wanted to hear the Pontotoc piano program in which their organist would be playing.

A few weeks ago, Rayanne phoned her mother to ask about possibly using our home to entertain those traveling to Pontotoc from Belmont to hear her play.

“I just thought about it,” she shared. “They won’t have time to eat anything before they leave Belmont, and rather than having to stop somewhere to eat on the way home, I think it would be a good idea to invite them over to Mama and Daddy’s after the program.”<continue reading>