And so it begins.

Today we swing into full gardener, lawn care, landscape mode. We are planting tomatoes, spreading soil and grass seed, planting flowers, spreading fertilizer, weed killer, and hope. Hope mixed with some prayer and topped with wishes. Watered into the fresh, earth, carefully chosen, and purchased, carried home in the back of a pickup, hauled around by hand to the back of the house, cut open and spread with care to cover the bare spots. Seed sprinkled generously over the dark, rich soil. 

But, the real good news is the emergence of my true calling, “travel videographer.” I know a trip to the local warehouse style hardware store with its endless aisles, vanishing help, and dizzying variety of styles, prices and milling, moving rivers of customers wouldn’t seem to offer much fodder for a video, maybe though, if you look at it right. 

Streams of people, all with huge carts loaded with lumber, tools, plants, bags, bundles and bales, piled so high they can hardly see around them. So heavy they can hardly steer. Big, unwieldy tanks left right in the middle of the path and rush over to look at the pallet piled high with something on sale. A huge basket, heavy, imposing and impossible to get around, a rock in the middle of a stream, laws of fluid motion fueled by anger, haste, and self importance. 

You can almost hear the indignity. “That is where I was going to leave my cart, you inconsiderate slob.” And, if the pallet of sale items is significant enough there will be a row of heavy carts, running down the aisle, around the corner, and back to the door leading to the garden center. From that point it becomes a phenomenon that feeds itself.  More people see the fascination and want a small piece, without even knowing what lies at the end of the rainbow. 

It doesn’t take long for the wait to increase the pressure. By the time people get to the display they are in a feeding frenzy, convinced that anything worth that kind of line, slow, interminable had to be valuable enough to buy several, no matter what it was. Supply and demand at its most primitive. 

Fortunes are made in those moments. A mad dash, in slow motion, a wide band of shopping carts narrowing into a laser focus at one spot and exploding out from a single point, for something, anything. It is a play that repeats across stores, across cities and states, driving up the value of companies whose products have stirred the interest of a random shopper whose tastes runs toward bargains in bulk. 

I like to wander, look, touch, pick up things, examine them, wonder if the product and I could have a meaningful relationship. My wife hates it when I touch things, but she knows it is who I am, I have to touch fence posts, stop signs, it is how I practice communion with the world, it keeps me grounded. And I like to look at things in stores, find out if it would be my thing, a thing I could use. Normally it isn’t, sometimes, though. My wife goes with a plan, she has studied the advertisement, she knows what she wants, and has a path laid out in her mind. But she is willing to wander a bit, to keep me in sync with things, she is good to me that way.

Mothers Day shopping, almost Labor day, I wish

Parts One, Two, Three, four and five are here, please have a look,

Almost unnoticeable in the mists and breeze stood the entrance to the aisle where the lattice work and fence sections were shelved. The floor was definitely starting to roll under our feet now. We had the cart, the orange, unwieldy shopping cart, emblazoned with the Home Depot logo to hang onto.

Unsteadily we made our way down the narrow path. Wooden casks stood, strapped to pallets in the middle of the aisle, and down the right side crates, nailed tight, stood, lonely in the dim light. Men came, men wearing grey clothes, rambling slowly, steadily there movements timed exquisitely with the movement of the floor, and picked up a crate. Turning slowly they carried the crate to the swinging doors in the back of the store.

"Hey, let's ask them where the lattice is." My wife suggested, smiling politely, as if we were bathed in the light and crowds of the mall, looking for a cinnamon roll, or iced tea. Not stuck in the netherlands of Home Depot on a holiday weekend.

"OK." I said, she had made up her mind, the course was set and we had full sail, there was no turning back now. Besides, there might be some light on the dock. This gloomy, misty, damp fog was starting to have a negative effect on me.

Unfortunately, the dock was just as dreary, and crowded. Men, shabby clothes, stringy hair, gaunt, bony, matted beards, rags wrapped around their heads, moved slowly around the area. Moved past us as if we did not exist. One of them had a wooden hammer, rounded and worn.

At the ringing of a great bell, a bell that shook the walls, rattled our bones, he slammed a pin that held a wheel, it spun slowly, gaining speed, pulling a chain through a hole in the floor. It stopped with a crash, and a voice screamed "Raise the main sail."

It echoed around the room, and with a great sigh the room, and several adjoining areas, including the employee break room and the public rest rooms broke free from the building. We were adrift, I could hear a lighthouse bell in the distance. All around us the men moved with a purpose, in and out of the mist, and fog.

I looked at my wife, and said, "I told you we should leave."

"Without the lattice for the cucumber?" Her voice was filled with an outraged shock. Her disbelief was profound.

"Man the starboard cannons. We are sailing to send Lowes to the bottom of the sea." A voice, deep, resonant, steeped with the weight of command, an ancient voice from a forgotten past echoed around the "ship."

For Father's Day, episode 5 of Mother's Day Shopping,

Parts One, Two, Three, and four are here, please have a look,

Armed with out shopping cart, our shopping cart talisman, and god knows what my wife had stuck inside her purse we began the trip to the back of the store. It was cool, almost cold and the smell of salt water hung in the air.

The floors were buckled slightly, and unstable, with a springy feel, as if they weren't solid. There were men in the distance, really just shadows, moving slowly about their work.

"Go ask one of them for help." My wife said, pushing me in the back.

"Are you crazy?" I asked, trying to keep my voice low, and calm. It came out an octave higher than I intended, though.

"All right, I'll do it," she said. Knowing I would never send her back there alone.

"Great, I will follow you."

"Just go ask, you big baby." She shoved me with both hands. Her negotiating skills are top notch.

I trembled my way to the back, where a man was taking the items off a shelf and placing them on a cart, as another man took them off the cart and stacked them on the shelf. Their actions timed perfectly. They never touched. And the shelf and the cart were balanced, almost perfectly.

"Say, I know you guys are busy, but could you point me toward the lattice?"

Without pause they kept moving the items off the shelf and back on the shelf. It was as if they didn't know I was there. They were pale, and looked dusty, it was impossible to guess their age, Dressed in blue jeans and plain grey t-shirts, that might have been white at one time it could have been from the fifties or yesterday. There was nothing to distinguish them from each other. Or the employee who pushed a cart filled with boxes of tubes of caulk past us. His slow pace almost metronomic, unchanging, mechanically regular.

Subtly, slowly the floor was shifting, almost imperceptibly at first, but increasingly pronounced, and
still the man moved, almost in unison with the shifting, and buckling. Unchanged, steady, robotic, he moved in a graceful ballet, it looked like he had had an eternity of practice. He walked right past us, without even looking our way.

"Maybe we should go." I said, "I don't like the way this is working out."

"We have to get the lattice for the cucumber." My wife is pretty stubborn. So we set off, into the gathering gloom, a rumor of fog and the sound of bells rolled in from the loading dock, and I'm pretty sure I heard a splash.

Grocery Shopping.

Yesterday, in a moment of weakness, my wife agreed to take me grocery shopping. I love going grocery shopping. It is a chance to swim amongst humanity in all its vibrant glory. Moving, weaving, cruising, stopping to shop, staring, selecting, starting, hurrying, loitering, gridlock, anger, potential violence, resolution, all of the drama of life, and snack crackers. Everybody needs to shop for groceries. It is the place to be and it is the place everybody will be sooner or later. Old people driving electric carts, people who don’t need so much, and just carry little baskets.

I always admire the people who can bring the whole family. Two carts, several kids, all pushing, pulling, battling, bickering their way through. One family, it had to be a foster home looking at the diversity of the children, was always just a step ahead of us. A young man, maybe 12 years old, pushed one of the carts, carefully, almost surgically through the aisles. At one point he stopped and patiently explained to a much younger child why they couldn’t by a bag of candy bars that were calling to every child, and some adults, who passed. It was a good argument, (one I’ve heard from my wife several times) but the child seemed unconvinced.

We were cruising down the long aisle that runs parallel to the front of the store, and some shopper in
his mid twenties came rocketing out of the wine and beer aisle. He almost clipped the front of our cart. He was in a hurry, and not paying attention. A bad idea in Kroger on a Saturday afternoon. He seemed sorry, and embarrassed. But, the minute he was done apologizing he took off, all motion, haste, impatience. Rushing somewhere, hurrying away from the front of the store, where the cashiers were waiting to provide escape. It wouldn’t have surprised me if a police shopping cart would have come screaming from the wine aisle in hot pursuit.

We ran into a young man, probably 5 or 6, dressed in a taekwondo uniform, complete with Korean characters drawn down the lapel. He told us he was going to be a ninja. Remarkable, we replied. He showed us some amazing ninja kicks and spins, and we gave him a standing ovation. “Good bye.” he said, and then he came back and said “You didn’t say thank you.” So, we thanked him. You don’t mess with a ninja seeking gratitude.

Everybody shops, everybody needs groceries, even if they are just crackers, beer and potato chips. Sooner or later if you go to enough grocery stores you will run into everyone. And if you don’t keep your eyes open they will run into you.

New Glasses, maybe.

I think this is the weekend to shop for new glasses. It puts me in an awkward situation. I have four pair of glasses right now, and I really like them all. A situation that almost guarantees failure today.

The four pair of glasses have different shapes, are different sizes, colors, materials, and I like them all. Shopping for glasses is a terrible burden. I am fussy about glasses. Shapes, colors, size, all have to be right. I have bought glasses before that I didn't really like and it was like a curse putting them on every morning. They just didn't look right.

Size is important, because I wear bifocals, I get the lineless variety so nobody knows, and since I am going on and on about shapes and appearance there is no point in pretending vanity is not an issue.

It reminds me of a time when my oldest son was playing youth soccer, and I was standing with the other dads, trying to fit in. And one of them said. "My dad just got bifocals, he is really having trouble adjusting to them." Rookie, I thought. But, I kind of moved away, we didn't really have that much in common.

But, I will go and look, and maybe even get some new glasses. If I can find the right pair. My wife always thinks I should get two pair, she says I am hard on my glasses. It doubles my problems.

Getting glasses is cool, shopping for glasses is difficult. Adapt and overcome, that's what I say. Not really, whine and worry, that is much closer.  But, if I find some I will post my picture here if not I will post a picture of something else. Any suggestions?

Either way, expect a long, detailed account tomorrow. Sorry, it is just who I am.

Another Hard Luck Story.

Over the weekend we went to the Anderson’s. It is a privately owned supermarket. They sell hardware, groceries, clothing, furniture, almost everything. More accurately, they sold almost everything. The company is closing its retail stores. The losses were too significant to overcome. It is one of those decisions that make sense, and may be unavoidable, but are still difficult to understand. A decision that cuts a swath through families, and communities.

If you have never lost a job because the decision was made to close you can’t really understand the pain. Unless you have lived through the announcement that your job was being eliminated by a vote of the shareholders, you don’t really understand the hopelessness, the lonely sense of desperation, the overpowering sense of impotence, uselessness.

I always feel a little like a carrion bird going through the bargains. A ghoul, wandering long graveyard aisles filled with the misery of people whose lives have been changed, prowling for a little discount at the expense of a poor family learning to adapt to one less paycheck. I can feel the weight of the ghosts shuffling aimlessly around me.

 

A lot of stuff had already been sold. Empty shelves stood silent and lifeless. I hurried past them. It was no place to be, nothing to see, but if you looked the emptiness told so many stories, all different, all ending the same, an empty shelf, in a store that was soon to empty, and the crowded bustle of shoppers who had given it life for so many years.

We found some things, but, it was bittersweet. Making it worse, the staff was so polite, helpful, courteous, almost cheerful. I went from pity to misery. It would have been easier to face apathy, or even hostility. I would have still felt sorry for them, but it could have had an edge of anger to provide moderation. Now, though, it is just a heartbreaking numbness.

In the equation of life the loss of a few retail jobs barely even changes the result. But, in the lives of the people who attended the meeting, or got the email, or memo, or tweet this was a terrible blow. In one scandalously short instant their lives were changed dramatically for the worse. As you go about your day, think of the ways you can help someone, lift a spirit, spread a smile or a little joy. Do it for the people who are worried about their future, it may not help, but it can’t hurt.

Marketplace, Memories, and Madness.

Yesterday my wife and I went to the Columbus Marketplace. She gets free tickets from one of her coworkers, a gentlemanly, polite man with one of the most perfectly groomed mustaches I have seen in years. He works there with his wife, son and granddaughter.

The building was huge. Still, though, it was crowded, every inch, except the narrow, crowded aisles, filled with vendor booths. Each booth stuffed with art, crafts, trinkets, gift items, almost everything. Clothing, rugs, pillows, everywhere. It was a world apart from what the average person experiences. And it was fantastic.

Colors ran from bright and gaudy, to tan, subdued, and cream in one step. People hurried from display to fixture to shelf, pulling 2 wheeled carts, the attached baskets filled with coffee cups, shot glasses, gloves, jewelry, candles, handbags, sundries only to be guessed. Treasures were everywhere, depending on how you define treasure. People were buying, people were shopping, it was a celebration of commerce and capitalism.

There was a peaceful feeling in the midst of the madness. A pleasant solace in the joyful noise. In the midst of this terrible campaign, filled with division, slander, and venom here was a sound of normalcy. From the bustling, inconsiderate shoppers, to the apathetic callous vendors I saw America.

In what was just a short trip, a spur of the moment decision, really just one of those things we do because it is new and different, w e were delighted to find our country was alive, and kicking. Despite the wailing and lamentations of political cadres this country, and its citizens, are moving forward, and the election is not really going to make much of a difference.

Our country is a machine unto itself, and it will churn on, turning out Marketplaces, craft shows, street fairs, all sorts of community festivals, bringing people together, selling products (many of them made somewhere else), food, and generating conversations, right in the middle of the cramped aisles. Causing other shoppers to rush through one of the claustrophobic booths, in a mad dash to the next knot of glorious merchandise.

One thing apparent, in every aisle, and almost every booth, patriotism and Christianity are alive and well. People were lining up to buy the symbols so dear to both beliefs. You could not miss the immense on display, rows and rows of Christmas trees, angel necklaces, bracelets, Crucifixes made from, and into, almost every imaginable medium, shirts, and signs adorned with the flag, sometimes the original flag, showing a star for each of the 13 colonies. People find comfort in symbolism, and I find comfort in that. As long as we can find something to rally around, and some common message to share there is still hope, and that is a scarce commodity.

We left there with a few gifts, sore feet, a new wristband sporting the skull and crossbones, for only $2.00. Plus, a small belief that there is a future. And that didn’t cost anything.

Married Life, and Other War Stories #FixThePlus

Anybody who knows me will tell you I love to go grocery shopping. It is a thrill, aisle after aisle of tasty treats. Food from one end to the other, with beer, and wine, and in some stores, bourbon. When you shuffle off this mortal coil and join the choir invisible you may actually get a job working at Kroger (our favorite grocery store). Of course, all of the customers will have a tab that never needs paid so they just stop by and grab what they need, thank you profusely, and go home. While you get to stock the snack crackers right next to the canned, spray cheese, and realize that there is a heaven.

Anybody who knows my wife can tell you she does not like to take me shopping with her. She is a shopping machine, a super human calculator. Constantly adjusting her savings strategy based on availability. Scanning coupons, and combining mentally the "8 for 8" sale, of the "Buy 10 save 10" values. While performing some complicated mental mathematics involving the various discounts from combining several specials, and coupons she doesn't want to stop and talk about how delicious a root beer float might be after dinner, "oh by the way, what do you want for dinner? Chili dogs would be good."

All of this means I don't get to go very often. But, sometimes I weasel my way into her good graces, and she takes me. On those rare occasions I have to make sure things go according to plan. When she stops to choose the combinations of soups I drop a pack of boxed cupcakes in the cart. It has to be smooth, so she doesn't notice the movement. It has to be concealed, maybe behind the cauliflower, and broccoli. Here is today's shopping tip, don't hide them under the cases of bottled water, they become very difficult to eat.

It is a good idea to have a few handy phrases loaded up and ready to use. I like "Yes, I was kind of surprised when you grabbed the shopping cart with all of the candy bars stacked on your purse and the diet cola, and the fresh fruit like that." Another old favorite, "Those cookies must have fallen in during that earth tremor while we were in 'aisle 6, cookies, crackers, potato chips and assorted breakfast pastries.' What an aisle that is, huh? We should go through there one more time." It is important to say this casually, don't let your voice tremble. You have to be cool, or she will see right through you, this is just a little trip down memory lane.

That is enough for today, tune in tomorrow, to find out how to negotiate an action movie on Netflix, you don't want to miss that.

Christmas, Time to Celebrate the Life Explained Way.

We, here at Life Explained, Ohio Office (LE uhoh), have examined the meaning of the holiday season. It is steeped in mystery, and intrigue. Many people feel it is about finding and filling spiritual needs. Others feel it is a time to connect with family, and friends, to strengthen the ties of blood, and affection.  Others, still, feel it is a festive party season, a chance to shower people with love, and presents, and tokens of appreciation.

Turns out it isn't any of that. It was established by the printing industry, in a unique spirit of cooperation with timber harvesting companies as an excuse to generate enormous amounts of catalogs and profits printing sale flyers, toy catalogs, and shopping advertisements. It was a huge success.

Soon retailers jumped on board. It was a great opportunity. In August, at a predetermined time they quietly raised prices to an agreed upon level. Then, when Thanksgiving rolls around they have a "Black Friday Sale." Prices are reduced to, what is known in retail circles as, the "July Level."

Newspaper carriers suffer through the day with sore backs, aching feet, strained shoulders, and thinking "I have nothing to be thankful for, except non steroid anti inflammatory drugs." Kicking off the joyous season, in a realistic way.

Soon the stores are filled with people clutching sale flyers, ads, and lists. There are fights for the big screen televisions caught on security footage. "Merry Christmas, you son of a bitch. Now hand over the high tech sale item before I have to kill you, and have a nice day."

So, to combat this vicious progression, we here at Life Explained Ohio Office (LEHOHOHO) have raised the prices on all of the items on our Gift Shop Website to ridiculous levels. It is your duty to buy several over priced items, and add a nice gratuity, we are doing this for everybody.

A little Holiday Advice, from a Trusted Source.

Thanksgiving is over, thank God, now we can start getting ready for Christmas. Actually it is socially acceptable to begin preparations when Halloween is over. The trick is to blend Thanksgiving and Christmas into one long celebration. It is not a good idea to advertise that kind of thinking. Wiser to just kind of mumble it in. Try "Happy ThanksChristmas, here is my gift list."

Running the words together is your left jab, preoccupying your opponent, putting them off balance, making them doubt what they heard. Before they have time to regroup, question the statement you strike with the right cross! the Christmas List. All they can do is stutter a thank you, and ask what you have planned for the holidays.

Of course it is vital that your list is complete, with a spreadsheet comparing prices, at several stores, with directions to each. Phone numbers, and web site addresses are optional, but it is recommended.

Also, you want to have several lists, with different items, you don't want any of those morons you call friends, or family doubling up on that new Xbox Whatever They Call It.*

It is also important to remember that there are people who want to buy you something but are having a rough time, maybe experiencing a financial setback. Make sure there are plenty of less expensive items on there for those losers too. It is Christmas after all.

Of course, after careful consideration, and a thorough examination of my lists we might need to celebrate Happy Independence Christmas next year.

Anyway, enjoy shopping, buy lots of stuff, and don't forget to send your favorite Holiday Shopping Madness pictures to me.


* I don't suggest telling people exactly what they should give you. People can resent that.

New glasses, I see how that would help

Tomorrow is going to be a big day. I am going to pick out new glasses. Getting new glasses is almost like stepping into a new reality. It changes everything.

It is important to pick the right glasses, though. It has to be something flattering, comfortable, and completely unlike the last pair. It changes the way the world sees a person. You can almost become a whole new person. A fresh start. Who doesn't love that.

And since I am pretty hard on my glasses it changes the way I look at the world. Wow, look how crisp and clean everything looks, not blurry with lines, and imperfections. Who knew lines were so sharp, what a brave new world.

A dramatization, not representative of real sight.

It is vital that glasses compliment your appearance. There are few things worse than walking around for a whole year looking like a big dork. Trust me, the meek may inherit the Earth, but they have no use for a goofball with glasses that do not enhance his appearance.

Most times I have some idea. This year is a mystery, wire frames, plastic, who knows, the suspense is killing me.

Since I wear lineless bifocals that limits my choices a little, but I like bigger glasses anyway. It is easier to see things without moving my head around like an owl.

Plus, shopping is always an adventure. And this close to the Holidays it can be life threatening. There are so many things we need to do once we leave the house, we go crazy. Let's stop and pick up a new blender, and maybe some jeans, and a shirt, and we should grab something to fix for dinner.  We are like parolees gone mad with the intoxication of freedom.

So, after a good breakfast, strong coffee, and a silent prayer for strength and safety it is off to find the perfect pair of specs. I will have a full report with pictures, and maybe even a shot of the elusive perfect pair of glasses.

Shopping, gambling, and some snacks.

Yesterday we went shopping at the outlet mall. It is an adventure to be sure. It is about halfway between Columbus, and Cincinnati right outside of a small town, maybe two. It is either Jeffersonville, and Washington Courthouse, the signs are inconclusive, and I like the mystery, it makes it seem otherworldly and riddled with doubt so I don't look too closely.

The best part is when you tell someone you are going to the outlet mall and they say "Oh, Jeffersonville," you can reply "No. Washington Courthouse." Either way is right, with deep ties to the founding fathers.

There is a feel to an outlet mall. Something primal, and savage. Something that calls from a history that is much older than the founding of our country. Maybe they are built on ancient burial grounds, and the spirits of the hunter gatherers are assuming temporary control of shoppers seeking the ultimate bargain.

It is more prevalent in some stores, and at certain times, later in the day is untrammeled savagery, but some stores must be on spiritual hot spots. The Eddie Bauer store is a place where you have to be prepared to stand your ground right from the opening whistle. Hanging on a circular display where shirts, and vests and assorted jackets, all 50% off original price.

On one side a sweet looking older lady was shoving the hangars to the left, sure the ultimate garment for the perfect price was hanging there. One quarter of the way to the left was another kindly looking older lady shoving them back to the right. The sound of the hangers slamming into each other echoed around the store.  She was equally certain the grail of garments was hanging there.

Soon, they had worked there way all the around the rack and came face to face with each other over a medium insulated jacket, with a media pocket, rip stop fabric and a removable hood. For $39.95 it was quite a deal, and it was the bargain they were both hunting.

If you could picture the clash of the titans between two somebodies grandmas and an Eddie Bauer outlet mall employee over a deeply discounted jacket you will have the scene. Soon the other shoppers had formed a circle around the contest, and bets were being placed, and some quick thinking bargain hunter started selling concessions, mostly Ritz crackers topped with canned cheese, for 35 cents each, and warm bottles of water.

Rip stop fabric is more of rip resistant than tear proof. When the Eddie Bauer associate started to get
the upper hand, and the two kindly old women began to suspect that neither would get the jacket they turned on him, and wrapped one of the sleeves around his neck, and started dragging him around the luggage display. The sleeve tore off of the jacket, and the associate was resuscitated by the referee.

"Oh, you can have the jacket, dear," one grandma said to the other.

"I couldn't, honey. Let's go to the food court and I will buy you a nice cup of cocoa," the other replied.

I got a great deal on a new vest, $17.95, but I lost ten dollars on the fight, I bet on the young man working for Eddie Bauer.

All in all it was a pretty good day, if you like canned cheese and Ritz crackers.

Commerce Gone Wild!

Yesterday we went to the Outlet Mall. It is a big day, filled with excitement, and energy. There are several advantages to shopping at Tanger Outlet Mall, convenience is the driving factor for us. There are so many stores packed into a small place, so many different brands, all crammed into a brisk walk.

It really packs in the people, too. Humanity, in all its variety, all walking the sidewalks and crowded aisles. It is a true testament to the human spirit. There is safety in numbers, we are social animals and we love a good deal.

When dealing with that many people it is important to establish yourself as the alpha shopper early. One good way to do this, use the restroom, and wash your hands vigorously, spending enough time that the other person finishes first. Already you have proven your superior hygiene. Then, to cement your dominance, as the filthy, lesser shopper of the species is drying his hands, using the heated air, dry your hands on the back of his shirt, pulling up the tail and really getting between the fingers. You can walk out clean, dry and in charge.

But, don't kid yourself there is always some young gun, looking to unseat you from the lofty throne. You have to keep your edge, stay light on your feet, and keep your head on a swivel. One way to avoid being unseated, leave early.

As the day wears on the crowds get denser, the mood darkens, and the atmosphere becomes more volatile. People who are fighting through crowds of people who are often stopped in the middle of the sidewalk shrieking at unruly children, or having small, loud family reunion, can be hostile, vicious. And these are not the kind of people I want shop with.

So, yesterday, I got a new pair of shoes for work, a new pair of shoes for the gym, and most importantly a new gym bag. It is a manly bag, canvas, and leather, macho as can be for a bag you carry on your shoulder. I wanted something different, I always do, and then I wonder why I don't fit in. Go figure.

A good day, a good microwave, and a great wife.

Yesterday we went shopping for a new microwave oven. It was a good trip, there was a side excursion to a department store to buy jeans for our son, who doesn't like to pay for his own jeans. And, after seeing the price for Levi's 501s it is easy to see why. But, my wife had some Kohl's cash, and a few coupons, and thanks to her industriousness, and money sense, and the wonderfully generous policies of Kohl's we got both pairs for less than the price of one.

We went to Best Buy, a wonderful store, that I used to hate, but either they changed, and became more friendly, and accommodating, or I have become less critical, and that is not very likely. With our choice clearly made, armed with the customer reviews, and the "Consumer Reports" we headed right for the kitchen appliance section of the store closest to our home. Unfortunately, they didn't have the model we were looking for. Or the second choice, or a suitable replacement.

None of this was too surprising, as my wife had looked on the website, and it didn't seem promising. Hope springs eternal, though, so we had to try. But, when the bottom fell out, we packed up, and moved on. On to the store in Reynoldsburg.

I am not sure if they had the first choice, because there was this microwave, a fantastic microwave, this spectacular microwave, this cutting edge, revolutionary, world changing microwave.  A microwave that could alter the course of history. A microwave that guarantees victory, assures the continued success of mankind.  A really nice microwave.

This microwave comes with a tiny oven built in!  Just when you lose all faith in humanity something like this comes along, and you think there might be hope after all.  

It is days like this that I know I married the right woman, because we looked at that and I said, "wow!" and she asked "should we get that one?"  And, we bought it.  Despite the fact that it was not the one we agreed on, it was not even on the list, and they did not have one in stock, so we will have to wait until Tuesday, then drive back down to Reynoldsburg, and pick it up, and she didn't even balk.

When I said "Let's look at cell phones." 

She said "you already know what kind of phone you are getting, don't you?"  Which is true, but we did pick out a case, a wallet style, which covers the face. Considering what happened to Bil's phone seems even more important.

Plus, we paid $1.11 a gallon for gas, (thank you, Giant Eagle, who gives us such a nice discount just for buying food, we love food) a joyous occasion, as evidenced in the touching performance art below.  Please ignore the dead insect behind the glass on the pump.  After 25 years of marriage my wife has learned to suffer foolishness gladly, more or less, but to say "we have to pick a different gas pump because this one will cast a pall of death over the celebratory video," might be pushing things a little too far.

So, thanks to Kohl's, Giant Eagle Get Go, Best Buy, Apple, LG microwave oven division, Half Click Studios and Cam Animate, but mostly to my wife.

A Day Out, Kind Of.

It started with few challenges. First, we had to find a parking spot at our favorite breakfast place. And, then finding out the wait was so long we didn't want to wait, the twenty five minutes to get a seat. 

Then we had to climb back in the car and wait for the person who was trying to park next to us to maneuver and coerce her Tahoe into the spot next to us. I sometimes wonder if the person who designs parking lots around this city drives a subcompact, maybe a Smart Car, or a Mini Cooper, without ever taking into account that this corner of the city is the land of mini-vans, Tahoes, Suburbans, Excursions, big cars, that take big parking spaces, and big aisles to swing all that size into them. Obviously, that was kind of an inauspicious start. 

 
After that it got a better. Our drive to Jeffersonville was really smooth. That stretch of freeway can be so hectic, crowded and aggravating that it was a very pleasant surprise. We cruised pretty much at an officially acceptable speed of slightly more than the posted speed limit. It is funny, that they post a speed limit, and then, according to popular myth, allow you, without penalty to exceed it by a given amount, which is four or five miles an hour. But, we take advantage of that leeway.

 
Which brings up a sore spot. Why don't people use cruise control? It is a good question, too. If people went a more uniform speed, it would prevent a lot of the weaving, and lane changing, and passing, re-passing, and congestion that curses so many drives across country. At least so many of ours. But, yesterday was peaceful, easy, and with little aggravation.

 
Surprisingly, the Outlet mall was peaceful, and relatively quiet, there was enough people to make it interesting, and fun, but not enough to consume the sidewalks and push the boundaries of sanity. 

Of course, the Adidas and Nike stores were filled, people in those stores always seem to believe they have certain rights that probably don't really exist. For exampe, the right to stand in the middle of the aisle, and try on shoes. 

 So, if you would like to look at shoes you will need to backtrack, navigate through aisles filled with people contorting themselves in an effort to put on a shoe while standing. Often, thrashing violently, arms flailing, hopping madly from side to side, a little clumsy ballet of gymnastics, followed by a breathless, "how do these look? I think they look good."

 
But, I don't stay in those stores long, just long enough for a few performances, then I am off, to more peaceful, sedate stores. Yesterday, we even tried a new stores, Pottery Barn, which surprisingly had very little pottery, but some very cool things. One of the things that seemed genius is the acrylic glasses.  They look like real glass, but if you drop them they don't break. Genius, I tell you.



Then we went and bought some clothes for my wife, at a place (Ann Taylor) that always uses headless mannequins.  Why headless?  It is a little disturbing, It is a little hard to tell how good an outfit will look on a person with a head.  "Well, that does look nice on a headless person, can you leave your head at home."  


And a new pair of Nike shoes for me, but we bought them at Famous Footwear, which is a much more polite shoe shopping experience.

 

And what trip to the outlet mall would be complete without stopping at the Goldfish Cracker store, the snack that smiles back. Officially it is called the Pepperidge Farms store, but everybody understands the real star is the delightful, flavorful fish.

Really, it was a good day, and we had a lot of fun .  And, we had McDonald's for breakfast and Popeye's chicken for lunch.  Days like that are what make life great.  Spending time with your family, and the laughter, and smiles, the sunshine, and crowds, the thrill of finding a good deal, and the joy of being a father, and a husband.  I would give a lot to live a day like that more often.

 

The Aerobics of Terror, Why I Love the Gym.

Normally, on Tuesday I don't go the gym.  Since I skipped Monday I decided to go workout.

In all fairness, Monday was not all lounging, television and potato chips.  We (my son and I) went and hiked through the wilds of Central Ohio. Here are pictures to prove it, looks pretty wild, yes? It was treacherous, and kind of cold, and the stairs (yes, we build stairs in the untamed forests in Central Ohio, we are not animals, you know?) were steep, and parts of the path were icy and slick.  But, similar to Lewis and Clark  we persevered, and came out, more or less, unscathed, on the other side.

Plus, there is the aerobics of terror, from grocery shopping.  My wife asked us to stop at the store, and pick up a few things.  No problem.  Normally she does not trust me with a very long list, so a basket is all that is needed.  With a basket a shopper remains mobile, elusive, a moving target, bobbing and weaving, dancing around the malevolent, grabbing some coffee, and skipping out of the line of fire.

Monday, though, there were three 12 packs of soft drinks (I am not going to enter into that rancorous, venomous soda vs. pop vs. cola debate, nor I am going to endorse a brand unless they offer me some incentive (take that Coke, (oh, dammit!))) so I was weighed down by a cart.  I was at the mercy of other, more experienced shoppers.

Cruising down the aisle for tortillas, and moving slow, cautious, I stopped and picked up our brand, on sale great! and moved on.  A woman who was maneuvering her shopping cart behind me decided to take me on the left.  She swung out, and began to pass me, so I stopped, sensing a multi cart pile up, and the ensuing chaos, plus, it might crush my Frito Scoops (also on sale, hooray!).  The minute I stopped, she stopped, just to my left, glaring hatefully at me, her hand came up and she pointed her finger at me, the nail long, filed sharp, and painted blood red, her hand was shaking with homicidal rage.  Angrily, bitterly, indignantly, she said "I want to get a bag of salted pretzel twists behind you."

Anyway, I went to the gym last night.  I tried something new.  Instead of listening to a podcast I turned on some music.  A bad idea.

I am too easily influenced, too prone to suggestion.  I started with a little Van Morrison, slow, melodic, and pleasing, the treadmill and I were one.  Southern Cross, came next and we hit our stride, a nice pace, just cruising.  But, next was the Blues rocker James Cotton singing "Cotton Mouth Man."  We were rocking, and rolling, by the time he sang "People shouted mercy, these blues can not be healed," I was going about 45 miles an hour, people were staring at me, probably because of my joints screaming in protest.

But, I will go again tonight, podcast loaded up, tonight it will be about the "Protestant Reformation," a fascinating part of history.

Bad news, my boss has given me permission to write a company newsletter, and once it is finished I will post it here, with her permission of course.  So, keep your eyes open for that, if you dare.  See, Mike, I told you I was going to start my own newsletter.

Hey, really good news.

Party Time!

To all of you people who asked the question, "oh sure, he can type, but can he write?"  Well, the answer is still "probably not."  But, the fantastically intelligent, web savvy, way ahead of their time, convenience providing people at Find.com have been so kind as to post this wonderful little thing I threw together just the other day.  My Very First Real Review!  So, if you are trying to find "just the right thing," head over to Find.com, the slogan says it all, "Why search when you can find?"

For those of you keeping score at home this is the second piece published.  This may not qualify as viral, or even bacterial, but it is at least anemic, and possibly "working from home, ill."

 It has been such a long journey from my childhood, raised in the woods of Kentucky, scraping by, barely having enough to eat.  Working my way, slowly and painfully across Indiana, to Chicago, where I rose through the ranks of local and state politics to eventually become the President of the Unit...  Wait, that wasn't me, that was Abraham Lincoln.

Anyway, I would like to thank +Mike Raven of the The Blog Of Thog, who told me about the wonderful, generous, keenly intellectual people at Find.com.  And the keenly intellectual people of Find.com, who may be kind enough to accept another post, (so buy all of your stuff through that sight), and Abraham Lincoln, our 16th president, who once said, "wow, getting your picture on paper money, now that's class."

Shopping, the Most Important Virtue.

Labor Day, the unofficial kick off of the Christmas Shopping Season.  Now is not the solstice of the season, but do not let that delay you.   Up quickly, shower, and you're off, shopping, fueling the great economic engine that runs this world.  Labor Day Sale, we think not, this is your first real Holiday Gift Sale, and it is your responsibility to take advantage.

When purchases are made it adds to the GDP, Gross Domestic Product, an important measure of how much money is spent.  Excessive spending used to be very unfashionable, and people would say things like, "look at how much that poor rube is spending, that is so gross."  Lately, though it has become very chic to practice blatant consumerism, and you want to be considered hip and with it, don't you?

Shopping can have many health benefits, as well.  Saturday, at the Bass Outlet Store in the Tanger Outlet Mall, they were having a sale on shoes, buy one get two free.  And the fight was on.  It was an intense workout, akin to boxing, or mixed martial arts.  Marauding shoppers roamed the narrow aisles running between the racks of bargain priced shoes. People were like animals, using baby strollers to plow through shoppers, elbowing, shoving, pushing, and scrambling for that perfect pair of casual, rugged looking shoes.  Shouting "excuse me" over their shoulders to the fallen, scrambling, wounded mass of humanity left in the wake.

Carrying shoes boxes in combinations of three, six, nine or twelve up to the front of the store, to stand humbly in line, sweat staining their clothing, waiting for the next available cashier.  Boxes towering above their heads, weaving, and waving back and forth hypnotically.  "Was anyone helping you?" the cashier asked.  "Well, that blond woman in the blood stained grey sweater stitched up my forearm after that nice looking older lady smashed me to the floor with her walker."

So, don't hesitate, do a quick carboload, pancakes are a good choice, maybe some bacon for protein, hydrate well, coffee (or Coca Cola, if you are so inclined, anything caffeinated) is always a good choice, grab the first aid kit and the industrial strength Discover card, and go grab some stuff, you know you want to.

Labor Day, a time for action.

Sunday, and it is rainy and early in the day, and cool and comfortable, and not even halfway through the weekend!  Three day weekends are an application of delight, tonic for the soul, a wonderful, powerful thrilling joyride.  So keen it almost seems illegal, or at least immoral.  But, it isn't.  Approved by the federal government, and endorsed by decent, loving, humane employers everywhere.

Yesterday was a day of labor, too.  We went to the the Outlet Mall in Jeffersonville, a mythical place with unique physical properties, and a strange gravitational pull that grabs people from miles away and drags them across state lines to walk purposefully and determinedly across well traveled sidewalks and into busy stores.  Once inside they will toil, grabbing for bargains, bickering among themselves, turning on employees, comparing prices to those offered by the ultimate of discount stores, Walmart.  Often, this would spark intense debate concerning the location of the best deal, and thinly veiled accusations of stupidity, and mathematical incompetence.  Further bickering would ensue, and soon the scene would deteriorate, the family openly split along visible lines, invoking visions of the Hatfields and McCoys, or Capulets and Montagues.

My big purchase was a "Doohickey" from Eddie Bauer.  A bottle opener, screw driver, wrench, box cutter, ruler combination that clips onto a key ring.  So far only the bottle opener has been field tested, and found to be passable taking two or three attempts to pop the top on an icy cold Red Stripe, directly in contrast to the ease of the model we keep in the drawer with the cutlery. This is in keeping with my new routine heavy on aerobic, and heart healthy exercise.  I can almost feel the years being added to my life.  My doctor will be so proud.

Soon the rain will pass, and the day will assume the glory entitled to the middle day of a three day weekend.  An aroma of smoked ribs smothered in barbecue sauce is beginning to float through the neighborhood, the new bottle opener workout is calling, and I must answer.  Until next time, friends.

It isn't a three day weekend, yet.

Sunday, and Labor Day is a whole week away.  Which means a whole week full of work days, and blaring, intrusive alarm clocks, endless toil, backbreaking work, hurried lunches, and coffee slammed down between everyday demands and turmoil. Ah, the joys of gainful employment.

Tomorrow we will wake to the delightful sounds of whatever song, or commercial, or painful, agonizing white noise is on the radio at 4:55 in the morning, and plod, zombie fashion, toward the coffee and Diet Coke, thank you kind fates for caffeine, to start our week of indentured servitude.  We are beholden to the companies who own part of our house, bits of our cars, the organizations that provide our water and electricity, and natural gas.  Also we are deeply indebted to several suppliers of groceries, deeply indebted.

Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday are scheduled to provide the same torture.  Time drags, expectations are lowered until all a person can hope for is arriving safely at home at the end of the day.  An infinite loop, endless torture, and responsibility.  Ah, the joys of painful employment.  

Saturday, ah the joyous, wondrous, delight of Saturday, the first day of a three day weekend.  Labor day, you beautiful, glorious creation of man kind.  The origins of Labor Day are lost in the lore of ancient Washington, but it is widely believed to have been a gift from the gods of time management, and labor allocation.  But, nobody really cares, a paid day off is all that anybody cares about.

It is the first weekend of college football season, and the Cornhuskers are on television, and that is another gift from on high. Go Big Red!

There are rumors of cold beer, smoked ribs, coleslaw, and garlic toast, unsubstantiated as yet, but they are from a highly placed source.  It depends on the grocery store sales, stay tuned for updates.

Plus, there is an expedition to the Outlet Mall in the works for Saturday, and a new video editing app on the Microsoft Surface Pro 3, a powerful, intoxicating combination (sometimes even I feel sorry for my wife).  Life on the move at the outlet mall, with musical accompaniment, this could be the biggest thing since the moon landing!

Life is so good, I can't wait to het to work tomorrow.