POPPYSEED CAKE
And failing a drug test...
While I was sitting in the impossibly small greige room, I started to take inventory to calm my nerves …
One jar cotton balls, one jar tongue depressors, three boxes latex gloves—small, medium, large—one red box hanging on the wall with “SHARPS” stamped across the top in bright yellow block letters, one examination table upholstered in greige vinyl with a thin strip of protective white paper running from head to foot, and where I sat in a matching thin paper gown.
It was time for my annual flight physical, and there was a possibility that I would not pass. Not because I was unhealthy; I was twenty-two and in the best shape of my life. I might not pass because of drugs! But it’s not what you’d think for a twenty-two-year-old college student.
It was 1990, and I was starting a new chapter as an undergraduate at Embry Riddle Aeronautical University in Daytona Beach, Florida, and learning to fly airplanes. I’ve always loved a routine, even then, and I started every morning with a stop at the University Center (UC) on my way to class to buy a large muffin and a cup of coffee. In 1990, the UC looked nothing like it looks today. For one thing, there was no Starbucks, nor was there a food court staffed by friendly hipsters looking right at home surrounded by industrial furniture and lighting. No, this UC was not well lit, and it was staffed with older women wearing hairnets. It was mostly self-serve. I selected my muffin from a wire shelf parked next to the instant coffee machine and cash register.
Generally, I took whatever flavor muffin looked the freshest, usually banana nut or blueberry. But as I anxiously sat in my paper gown, I remembered that the day before I consumed a ginormous poppyseed muffin for breakfast! And as every good flight student knows, eating poppy seeds can cause a drug test to show positive!
Good news … I passed!
Eating poppyseeds is no longer something I have to worry about; I’ve long been out of flight school. But I was remembering that nerve-wracking doctor visit recently when I was looking for my recipe for poppyseed cake—my mom’s favorite. I was going to be seeing my mom near her birthday, and I wanted to make her favorite cake. When I was in high school and perfecting my baking skills, I made her favorite cake every year. She always said she loved it, even when it didn’t turn out quite right.
So today, I was racing around looking for the recipe card and stuffing things into my “personal item.” That’s another ridiculous thing about flying—they charge you to bring a suitcase but will allow you one personal item at no cost, which just irritates me on principle. Why would you fly somewhere with no luggage!? So, referring to that same principle, I refuse to pay extra and have challenged myself to take a week-long vacation with only the items I can fit in a bag that measures a mere 18 × 14 × 8.
Unfortunately, that one 3 × 5 vanilla-stained recipe card was nowhere to be found, and I was running late. Sorry Mom, this year we’ll have to go out for your birthday … I can’t bake your favorite poppyseed cake.
