Stem to Stern

       I suspect most women are like me and would prefer a yoga class of just their own gender. Don’t get me wrong – I think it’s wonderful for men, who are generally less limber than women, to be interested in keeping their joints operational. And it’s refreshing to see guys recognize the value of something physical other than the usual traditional fitness regimes that can be hard on aging parts.

          But today as I veered sideways during sun salutation I was disconcerted to see a very hunky guy immediately to my left, one mat behind. No matter how enlightened the fella, if I’m going to be raising my keister to the sky during downward dog, I’d prefer to have a lady's gaze on the stern of my own imperfect personal boat.

          After that came the grocery store, which was blissfully quiet, except for the employees busily stocking the shelves. The store’s flyer for the next week’s deals takes effect on Thursdays, so maybe everyone else is waiting till the new prices go into effect before shopping. Still, I found a good deal on Progresso soup, although that was cancelled out, I suppose, by the $8 jar of mayonnaise I bought.

         

No worries about invading the young man's privacy since his hair screens his identity.

And I was disconcerted for the second time today by this sight at the counter where a worker was assembling a grinder for someone. I’m the last to get in a lather about someone else’s hairstyle – it’s only hair, folks – but I did wonder about the point of the baseball cap and the flexibility of local health codes.