SOME SAY THAT THE WHEEL IS THE GREATEST OF ALL INVENTIONS. Others say it is fire, or the printing press. I disagree. I think that the greatest invention in the History of the Human Species is The Dollar Store.
Let me explain…
I HAVE SEEN IT ALL NOW! Just when I think I have it all figured out and understand what is what and who is who, and what I can expect in my daily experience – Life throws me a curve.
My wife, the lovely and equally amazed, Dawn, were in Cincinnati last week. That, in and of itself, is nothing worthy of amazement. Cincinnati is, after all,…Cincinnati. If you’ve seen one fast food chili shop, you’ve seen ‘em all. But then we saw something that stopped us in our comfortably shod tracks.
We had stopped into a Kroger Supermarket to replenish our “Goodies” supply. Our shopping cart wobbled up and down each aisle ending up over near the Deli department and the in-store mini-St. Arbucks.
That is where we saw it.
One of my weekly chores around the house is doing the Laundry. The Laundry must be done and somebody has to do it, and…
I AM SOMEBODY!
Doing the Laundry is not all that difficult. If I was Color Blind, Illiterate, and entirely Anti-Social it would be much harder to do. It would be horribly more taxing if I had to lug everything down to the banks of the Wabash River and beat our clothing on a flat rock. Luckily, I don’t have to that, but I’m still looking for a way out of this weekly chore.
I am trying to train the cat to do the Laundry.
Throwback Thursday from January 2016
Cereal Killer On The LooseTOO MUCH EDUCATION CAN BE A DANGEROUS THING.
I know a person with a graduate degree in finance from an Ivy League school. He can squeeze so much value out of a dime that it makes FDR get up and walk.
Now, I like saving money as much as the next guy – maybe a bit more even. I grew up poor with cardboard in my shoes to cover the holes. Even today, at an overripe old age, I still wince whenever I spend money. But, the fellow of whom I speak has elevated money-saving to an Art.
Earlier this week he told me of his latest trip to Kroger’s to buy some breakfast cereal. He had some coupons in his hand.
When he got to the Cereal Aisle he saw that the object of his hunt was also being discounted. He smiled I’m sure, bordering on a leer.
Many of the “discounts” on the store shelves are as phony as a politician’s promise – The item sells regularly for $1.49, they change it to $1.79 and slap on another tag reading, “Marked Down to $1.49!” Instant Non-Discount.
Sometimes the discounts are real – usually because a buyer screwed up and they are stuck with ten truckloads of the stuff. Of course, some discounts arise after a news report says that the product can make your kids grow extra thumbs or decide to go to college and major in “Organic Bongs of Medieval Japan.”
Back to my tale of Nuclear Couponing in the Cereal Aisle.
In addition to your garden variety discount was another tag offering even bigger markdowns if you bought the cereal boxes 10 at a time. The buyer must have really screwed up. My Friend The Shopper felt like he had just found the Lost Dutchman Mine. He made a trip to chat with the store manager to verify that everything, as he saw it, was kosher. The Manager said that he was entitled to all of the posted discounts – plus – another “Instant Coupon” that would be given to him upon checkout. The coupons he walked in with were those super-duper double coupons and all of this back and forth with the store manager meant that he was getting into some serious high finance negotiations with Kroger’s. For a guy with a degree from Columbia University and a resume that includes a lengthy stint on Wall Street, this was heaven.
Cutting to the chase!
This man, who just wanted to buy some breakfast cereal for himself and his daughter, ended up walking back to his
car with 48 boxes of Post and Kellogg cereals – and a bottle of cranberry juice.
He hadn’t really wanted the cranberry juice, but after the dust settled at the checkout cash register, the store owed him $1.79.
The Manager was concerned that the Home Office in Cincinnati might pop an aneurism if the transaction showed up as a negative cash flow. To circumvent this he grabbed a bottle of cranberry juice off the shelf that cost $1.79 and they called the whole deal a push.
When I heard him tell this story my first thought was, “I hope you and your daughter really like cereal, because you’re going to be eating it every day for a year.
As he told this story I could see a fire in his eyes. This experience has spawned a monster. He said that he has found a cable TV show all about serious “couponing” and “It’s really interesting.”
I told him that I thought it all seemed like something that ended up with a very cult-like fanaticism.
If he keeps up with this “couponing”, I half expect him to shave his head, move to Battle Creek, and start banging a tambourine at the airport.
“Om, mane pay me coupon om.”
SOME PEOPLE SEEM TO INSTINCTIVELY KNOW HOW TO PUSH MY BUTTONS. I wish two things: That they didn’t know how to do that, and that I wouldn’t keep running into those people. There is enough aggravation in everyday life that I don’t need any unsolicited donations.
But Life doesn’t work that way.
I CAN UNDERSTAND THAT DESPERATE TIMES sometimes can call for desperate measures, but…
The other day while I was going up and down the aisles at my local Kroger supermarket I was confronted with just such a situation, or at least that what I was supposed to think.
As I was pushing my cart up the aisle past the pickles I saw a man with a cart coming the other way. His cart was empty and he was pulling a small wagon behind him. In the wagon was a small child, a toddler.
When the man (in his 30s I’d say) pulled up next to me he asked me if I had a dollar and could he have it? This guy was rolling through the store panhandling.
I LIKE ANIMALS. Some of my favorite people are real animals. And some of my favorite animals I tend to treat like people. It can get confusing at times I’ll admit that. Take a squirrel to lunch and people tend to look at you like you’re nuts.
There are, of course, some animals that I don’t care for and don’t want to socialize with – on any level.
A Rose Is A Rose Is A .357 Magnum
I WAS WANDERING through the recently reconfigured aisles of the Kroger’s Supermarket this morning. Whenever they do make changes like that it takes a while for me to be able to find anything again. I end up having to go up and down all the aisles. I know that having me do that is the objective, but if I haven’t purchased canned lychee nuts in the last forty years I probably won’t be doing so anytime soon.
While I was cruising and looking for the rice I happened to pass the Magazine display. I hadn’t seen that before so I stopped and perused the selection of things I wouldn’t be purchasing.
There must be 300 different magazines there. I haven’t heard of 98% of them.
Throwback Thursday from May 2015
IF YOU RECALL, about two weeks ago there was a posting here called
“Now THAT Was A Surprise Party”
https://johnkraft.wordpress.com/2015/05/09/now-that-was-a-surprise-party/
It all had to do with an effort to do something nice for someone. We should have known better.
For Newcomers and Amnesiacs I will give a brief reminder of the circumstances.
One of the baristas at our local Chapel of St. Arbucks was leaving to go be a circus performer – flying on the high trapeze to be exact. A few of us regulars here (AKA “The Usual Suspects”) decided it would be nice get her a cake for her last day on the job. One Suspect volunteered to assume the task of getting the cake from the nearby Kroger’s Supermarket. This is where it all began to fall apart.
He ordered a cake that was to be decorated with little plastic figures giving it a circus motif. He was to pick it up at 7:30 AM and bring it to the party.
At 7:30 AM he went to the Kroger’s and they told him it wasn’t going to be ready until 7:30 PM. Major Snafu. He showed them the receipt saying clearly “7:30 AM.” They panicked and told him to come back in 30 minutes.
Snafu Number Two
When I arrived at St. Arbucks I was informed that the young lady had decided to blow off her last day on the job. No cake, now no Guest of Honor.
Great. Just great.
Fast forward a few days. Kroger calls our Cake Orderer and says, “Come get your cake, Bucko!” He goes to the store and a confrontation ensues that results in the Bakery Manager chewing out the clerk, the clerk being upset, and Kroger tearing up our bill for the cake. Now the circus cake is THEIR PROBLEM.
Jump ahead to this past Wednesday when our innocent Cake Orderer goes into the Kroger to do his shopping. As he walks past the Bakery counter he clearly hears the same chewed out clerk tell a fellow clerk, “There’s that guy.”
He is now officially, “That guy.”
Unable to resist the chance to throw kerosene on a fire I went into the store yesterday afternoon. I browsed the cakes on display. The aforementioned clerk asks if she can be of assistance.
“Yes, thank you. Do you have any cakes with a circus theme?”
Her back got stiff and her eyes got skinny.
“Who is this for?” she asked.
I gave her a cock and bull story about a coworker leaving. It made no sense, but it seemed to satisfy her.
“”Well, we had a circus cake last week, but not anymore.”
“Can you make another one for me?”
“No.”
I didn’t push the issue. I never argue with someone who is skilled in using kitchen knives.
Last night our original Cake Orderer went back into the store. He spoke with someone else at the Bakery who gave him a behind the scenes glimpse at what had gone down.
It seems that this cake fiasco caused quite a furor inside their little frosting covered world. There is bad blood behind the counter now. I advised my fellow Suspect to do his shopping elsewhere.
All we wanted to do was to have a little going away party for a nice young lady who likes to hang upside down thirty feet in the air and who can make a good cup of coffee. What was wrong with that?
I guess this goes to prove that no good deed goes unpunished.
Throwback Thursday from Dec. 2015 – “I Go Out Wokking”
EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE I GET A CRAVING for Wonton soup, Pot Stickers or Sweet and Sour Something or Other. That is when I stage a full out assault on the “First Wok.”
First Wok is one of those small, family run Chinese Food To-Go shops that can be found in strip malls around the world.
First Wok may, or may not, be the first wok in Terre Haute (That’s French for, “My plastic fork is broken.”). They have some tables for those who want to eat there, but I’d wager that 90% of the customers get their General Tso’s Chicken To-Go in those little white paper cartons with the wire handles.
Throwback Thursday from Nov. 2015 –
SOMETIMES I THINK THAT HEARSAY IS BETTER than actually being a witness to something. A couple of nights ago was one of those times.
Now, I want to put a Caveat, with a capital C, in play here. The following anecdote was told to me by one of the notorious Usual Suspects. For that reason alone I take it all with a fifty pound salt lick. A grain of salt is just not enough.
Let me begin.
EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE SOMETHING NEW COMES ALONG that makes me sit up and take notice. It is not often mind you, but when that something shows up I will be the first on my block to applaud.
The latest thing that has grabbed my attention is one of those things that can be both amazing and annoying – DRONES – those flying gizmos that seem to be everywhere.
Drones are being used by everyone from the Military, to Sports teams, to every Techno-nerd in town. I don’t have a drone and I don’t want one. It is like tattoos – I can appreciate the skill it takes to make them, but I’m not going to get one just to follow the fad.
AS I FIND IT NECESSARY to do every so often I had to arrange for refills on my 8, 237 different meds that I take to control my Blood Pressure, my Spontaneous Human Combustion, and to keep my eyes from migrating so that they are both on the same side of my face (like a flounder). I don’t really care about the second and third conditions, but the BP thing is kind of important.
Let’s all repeat: “Blood Pressure is good.”
Throwback Thursday from Oct. 2015
THERE ARE SOME DAYS WHEN THE WORLD JUST SHORT-SHEETS MY MIND. I don’t take it personally. I know that the rest of humanity’s billions has it happen to each and every one of them too.
Today’s little, “Say What?” happened when I went to the pharmacy and headed back to the car. When I stepped outside I was greeted by what you see in the picture off to the right.
Now, I have seen the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile before. This must be the Sports Model. It appears to be built on the frame of a Mini Cooper. Therefore I feel awkward calling it a true Weinermobile – it is more of a Vienna Sausage Mobile. An Hors d’oeuvre. Ram a toothpick through it.
THE OTHER MORNING, I and my wife, the lovely and the usually asleep at that hour, Dawn, both got up at about 7 AM. That’s my normal hour, but for Dawn it is not. I am her Organic Alarm Clock, waking her at 8:30 AM most mornings.
This “temporal distortion,” to borrow a phrase from Star Trek, threw off my schedule for the entire day. I was at St. Arbucks before 8 o’clock, back home by 10 and finished with lunch by 10:30. It was like having a chicken salad sandwich for breakfast. But – Why not I say!
It set me to thinking about your basic chicken salad sandwich and how incredibly versatile it is. I just had it for breakfast. It digests well with me early in the day. It has some bits of egg and mayo (made with eggs) in it so I think it can qualify as a technical breakfast.
I LOVE PEOPLE. THEY ENTERTAIN ME NO END. And they do it all without really trying. Anytime – Anywhere – There is a circus going on.
I offer up last Sunday as a prime example.
On just about any Sunday as soon as church services are over the people are out of there like the place is on fire. BUT… You mention that there is some free ice cream being served in the kitchen and it quickly turns into a prairie dog killing stampede. I almost got run over. I don’t know if it was the words “ice cream” or the word “free” that got them all moving. I suspect both.
THIS HAS BEEN ONE OF THOSE DAYS ALREADY. Up early to try to get in some writing, then coffee time at St. Arbucks, a trip to the pharmacy, and then to the bank, and to the everpresent Kroger.
What will be on the agenda for after 10 AM remains to be seen, but I’m not terribly hopeful?
I THINK THERE IS A STRANGE EPIDEMIC GOING AROUND. People seem to be losing stuff at a furious rate.
Not long ago I and my wife, the lovely and non-clumsy, Dawn, were driving along Route 40 in Illinois and we noticed something sitting by the side of the road – a very nice and expensive office chair.
Seeing that chair, lost and abandoned out there, was a bit of a surprise. Most of the stuff by the side of the road is little more than trash, or Fiats.
There are days, not many, thank God, when I think that I am the only sane person on Earth.
Today’s example —
As I have written here recently my wife, the lovely and temporarily right-handed, Dawn, is recovering from a broken left arm. She has been under a doctor’s care. The doctor prescribed some painkillers for her and the Kroger pharmacy filled a little orange plastic bottle with the pills.
Her injury really laid her low and in pain, so I took the scrip to the pharmacy. I explained it all to the crew there and they were most sympathetic. They filled the prescription quickly and I was out of there in minutes. Of course, to do so I had to forge my wife’s signature. Big Whoopin’ Deal.
I LOVE GOING INTO ST. ARBUCKS. It is a veritable showcase for displaying the skills of the Marketing and Advertising people who are sitting in Seattle drinking way too much coffee and not getting enough Vitamin D.
There is no way I can verify this, but – I suspect that the corporate Marketing and Ad folks working at the Espresso Vatican are all in their 20s with MFA degrees from East Coast schools. Moving to Seattle was the first time that they have not had their parent’s home listed as their legal address.
While still on campus they attended a “Job Fair” where the Head Hunters from the Puget Sound passed out coupons and seriously flirted with anyone who could correctly spell “Frappuccino.”
Down the Hall on Your Left 