The produce stocker at the grocery store tells me not to buy the strawberries. [They're not very good, she says, and really, once we get going in conversation, we can both name many fruits we rarely buy anymore because they aren't any good. Peaches, nectarines, tomatoes. "I buy organic when I see it," I say. "They may not look perfect, but they're likely to taste better, like they're supposed to taste."
"Bananas!" she exclaims in agreement. "I only buy organic bananas. They taste so much better." 
I concur, and head off to buy some.]  

My husband cleans up the entire kitchen—not just plates and glasses in the sink, but everything into the dishwasher, pots and pans hand washed, and all food put away. [Okay, I think this was his way of apologizing for an earlier conversation that he realized he could have handled differently. But I don't remember when he's "apologized" so proactively before.]  

My 19-year-old son comes in after mowing the lawn, expounding on how well the cutting went this time, how good the lawn looks, like he's actually not doing a dreaded chore, but taking ownership of the well-being of our lawn! [I've got no answer for this, other than to float around in the clouds for awhile.]

Is President Obama behind this? Could I be seeing evidence of this new era, the fundamental change we've been hearing about?

To renew my vehicle registration by phone, I dial the Massachusetts Registry of Motor Vehicles number listed on my application, and key in "the 10-digit code in the blue box under the 'It's Easy To Renew'" section that the female computer voice directs me to (in her overly-lilting voice that finishes every phrase several notes higher, like someone not learning how to speak Chinese). The phone id code I punch in is not operable, according to this voice, not the first time, not the second, not the third. I redial, and punch the code in again, a fourth, fifth, and sixth time. Could I punch this code in wrong six times? I don't think so. I push zero for a customer representative, and proceed to wait, and wait, and wait. After about 15 minutes, I get a call coming in, returning a call I made. I take it, and talk for about ten minutes. When I hang up, my phone rings immediately. It's a call back. I'm incredulous. Could I truly still be on hold for the RMV call? I am!! I switch over, and hear the Muzak playing away. A half hour later, I am still on hold due to "high call volume." I listen another ten minutes or so until, unwittingly — I have a wire ear piece on with the phone in my jeans pocket — I hit the hang up button.

Registration renewal incomplete, but I've got my bearings again. Leave it to a good old Motor Vehicles Administration to bring me back down to an earth I recognize.