Hot Cranky People

This is Herbert.

He is my hero.

But he is sick. He’s been battling bouts of colitis on and off for the last few years, and it flared up again yesterday.

I’m taking him in to see the vet today, and because I am going out of town tomorrow, I am going to board him at the vet while I’m gone. It’s just too much for my friend who normally catsits to have to deal with giving him pills and stuff. I’m pretty much freaking out. I know Bert will be miserable and scared. I also know it will be great to have him under the vet’s supervision for a while, so they can finally find out what’s going on with his tummy. But I’m still freaking out.

I keep telling him he is going on a vacation. I’m not sure he is buying it.

It’s going to be a long week. For both of us.

I’m going to visit my parents this weekend in Atlanta, where I grew up. This got me thinking about the old days at the Snack N’ Shop.<

The Snack N' Shop was a local delicatessan, about a mile or two from our house. It was in the same shopping center as the dance studio where I took lessons up until I was about 14. They had great matzoh ball soup, great corned beef sandwiches, great bagels, etc.

But really, it was all about the potato salad.

Seriously, this stuff was good. Crazy good. I can't imagine what they put in it to make it so good. Nobody knew. It was legendary. I always suspected there might be sour cream involved, but looking back, I'm thinking it was most likely crack.

Mom would bring home a big container of it for a party or bbq or something and stash it in the fridge with explicit instructions to me, my sister, and our dad to LEAVE IT ALONE. Sometimes she would even use the phrase "Under penalty of death".

It was always the same. Throughout the day, my sister and my dad and I would each sneak in and steal a spoonful of it. A few times. Each. We never talked about it, but we all knew we were all doing it. Occasionally I'd come tiptoe-ing into the kitchen just as my father was putting the spoon he had just used and then washed and then dried back in the drawer. (You couldn't just leave a spoon in the sink, or even the drainer. She would know.) Our eyes would meet briefly, a flickering with understanding would pass between us, then he would sneak back out nonchalantly into the den to watch tennis on TV and I’d get my own spoonful.

Inevitably, we would hear Mom’s voice from the kitchen at about 6:00pm.

“Who ate the potato salad?? There’s a good third of it missing!!”

Yes, Mom. It was a good third. A really, really good third.

It occurred to me today that we can’t have been the only people in Atlanta who felt this way about the crack salad. So I Googled.

A letter to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution

I enjoyed your article on potato salad and look forward to trying some of your suggested places. It’s too bad that the best place for potato salad closed. The Snack ‘n Shop at West Paces Ferry and Northside Parkway closed several years ago, and its potato salad was legendary. Atlanta women were known to take their serving bowl into the Snack ‘n Shop and have it filled with their potato salad to take somewhere! I hope you’ve been in Atlanta long enough to remember the Snack ‘n Shop. The potato salad wasn’t cheap — but it was worth every penny!

I got so excited. She knew! She understood! I Googled onward, with images of recipes floating about my head.

No dice. No recipe. I am crushed.

The Snack N’ Shop closed in 1996. When I’m in town, we often go to the Houston’s restaurant, which is across the parking lot from where the Snack N’ Shop was. Inevitably, the talk turns to the good old days of the Snack N’ Shop potato salad. Now Mom laughs with us when we talk about how we would steal bites.

I can’t remember what’s there in its place now. I’ll have to take notice when I’m there this weekend. I think it might be a pet supply place.

Whatever it is now, they don’t sell crack potato salad.

It seems these days everything I touch turns to crap. Or a pile of dust. Or a mound of splinters. Or melts. Or just plain stops working.

Let’s take look at a list of all the things in my life that are broken, shall we? Yes, we shall.

1. My roof – It leaks. I need a new one.

2. My ceiling – Serious water damage. See #1 above.

3. My car – Oh, where do I begin? The A/C doesn’t work. And it’s August. Not a good combo. It’s also making an odd clicking/popping noise that doesn’t bode well at all. There are many, many other things too but just making this list is starting to stress me out so I’m just going to move on before I break out in hives.

4. My computer – Sigh. My darling Powerbook is in sad, sad shape. 2 broken hinges, a cracked case, and it seems to be emitting some sort of low level electrical current which I only knew about because my boyfriend touched my face while I was holding the laptop and realized I was buzzing like a bee. Eek. (This one actually has a happy ending. Scroll down. Or wait…just keep reading,you’ll get there eventually. Come back! I’m not done!)

5. My cat – Herbert the manatee/cat has not seemed well lately. He is having some litterbox issues and his arthritis seems to be bothering him more and more. This saddens me. The vet is going to try giving him a new nSAID (non steroidal anti-inflammatory drug) and I am hopeful that will help. Bring on the kitty Celebrex.

6. My bathroom window – Granted, this has been broken for 5 years but I thought I would throw it in. It’s become more of an issue lately because I am preparing to sell my house so it’s time to suck it up and get it fixed. Well that, and scary bugs are starting to creep in through the crack and chew on me in my sleep.

6b. My dining room window – One of the panes has a small crack. Hardly worth mentioning, but since I am finally going to be getting the bathroom window replaced I will be fixing this as well.

8. My camera phone. Well, it still works but it has been exhibiting odd behavior. Hmmm.

9. My joints – Ok, ok, so they’re not actually broken but they sure feel like it sometimes. My knees are in sad shape these days. I’m getting my (artificial) hip checked next week and I’m secretly frightened they will tell me it’s ruined and I’ll need a new one. I’m trying not to dwell on it, but it has felt pretty crappy for a while now. Cross your fingers please.

10. My basement – It leaks. Between it and my roof, I’m living in a mold sandwich.

There are more things. Broken things. But that’s all for now. I reserve the right to add them as they come to me.

EDIT: Ooh! I thought of more.

11. My cordless phones – The display is busted on one of them so I can’t see the Caller ID. Like I’m really going to answer the phone now.

12. My screen door – I don’t know what the actual problem is here other than it is broken and won’t close properly.

I am confident that numbers 2, 6, and 12 will be fixed by Fred the Handyman. Fred, don’t fail me know. Or maybe his name is Henry. I got his name from my friend Andrea and wrote it on some scrap of paper somewhere. Sigh.

Oh! You have scrolled down here looking for the happy ending regarding Broken Thing #4. I got a new Powerbook! I can’t afford it. It’s very shiny. I haven’t named it yet. Any suggestions?