Posted by
William D. Dannenmaier on Sunday, March 27, 2011 8:27:19 AM
Fame is fun, even if trivial and fleeting. Only this week have I learned that I have a certain amount of fame. I’ve always enjoyed an annual drive to St. Louis with the children. There are wonderful things there: the Zoo, the Botanical Gardens and the Missouri Bakery. If, on entering St. Louis from the east, you take interstate 44 west, get off at Hampton Avenue, take the second or third street to the left, wind your way through one-way streets for about six blocks you will find a major street with nice Italian restaurants and THE MISSOURI BAKERY. It is a true bakery. If you like stohlens, apple strudel, whipped cream cakes, Napoleons, Josephines, Gooey Butter cakes and other luxuries, all at a reasonable price and freshly made, that is the place to go. They even have a few doughnuts. It has always been our first stop. Then, loaded with whipped cream cakes and other blessings, it is back to Hampton, a right turn and a few blocks to the zoo. Typically, we have driven up early on Saturday mornings – it is 300 miles, arriving about ten and, following the bakery, gone to the zoo. The bakery is open on Sunday, so intending to return on Sunday afternoon, we take time to put in an order at the bakery to carry us back to Tennessee, where bakeries are doughnut shops. Typically, our home order is about $50, enough goods to enjoy on the way home and freeze for several days of continued enjoyment. Recently, we have had extended family visiting. Christopher, Renie and family have driven up from Texas and, to see them as well as us, Eric and Maria have driven down from Indianapolis. When Eric and Maria came in, they carried in several large boxes. They had come by way of St. Louis, read Missouri Bakery, and had brought $70 worth of goods. Eric said that when they picked up the packages, the lady at the counter said, “Oh, you are going to Nashville to see your father.” Just think, I am known, famed, in St. Louis at the Missouri Bakery.
Recently, being momentarily in charge to the check book, I bought a can of Planters Mixed Nuts, dollar or so more expensive than the cheap cans I normally purchase. A disaster, instead of more pecans and similar treats, I seemed to have fewer. It reminded me of a story my friend Al DuRocher told me. While awaiting orders to go overseas during WW II (Al fought his way through New Guinea) Al, married with children, took an evening job in a canning factory. He told me it was fascinating. A long line of cans with some vegetable would come down the assembly line. His job was putting labels on the cans. He said there would be so many of some expensive brand, then so many of some cheap brand. He said all of the cans were filled out of the same vats and there was no difference between the expensive and the cheap other than the label. I decided the same must be true of “Planters” and “Best Choice.” Having resolved to stop wasting money on the expensive brand, Sheila came walking in with an even larger can of “Planters” she had purchased for me. (It is as devoid of expensive nuts as they smaller can I paid for.)
Sheila’ physical therapists suggested that she receive massage treatment, an idea I questioned, for two reasons. One, it meant another day of driving into town for medical treatment – now five days a week, and it cost $50, which my insurance would not pay. Anyway, we had to go to Nashville to see Gary Smith, whom I trust completely, and when Sheila mentioned that the therapists wanted her to have a massage, he endorsed the idea enthusiastically, so I was won over. Sheila went on Wednesday and when she came home she was in better shape, moved more freely and had less pain than has been true for years! It seems that when a person lives with pain for a long time, in Sheila’s case for the past eighteen years, the nerves become accustomed to it and, even after the cause has been cured, continue to spread pain through the body in a process called “smudging.” A massage, by a competent professional, attacks this and the result was great for Sheila. She has now, thank goodness, gotten beyond the need for that and intensive therapy, although she continues to need the lesser exercises she does at home and the Cardiac Club and some pain medication. The only negative element of her improvement is that she has spasmodic kicks in her sleep and I happen to share the bed.