Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2018

Archive for the tag “Shopping”

Where Can I Get Some 3000 Year Old Pants?

 

MY BACK IS UP AGAINST THE WALL. It is the Christmas Season and everyone will be in a cheerful mood and dressed for the occasion. You know – family and all that. I am being given subtle signals that I will need to dress more like a mature man. A man who isn’t still dressing like he did in 1969.

And I hate going out shopping for clothing. Going into a store and having to deal with some clerk who asks me the one question I really hate to answer: “What is your size?”

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I’m Not Good At Shopping

BLACK FRIDAY HAS PASSED and the Christmas Shopping Season has begun for most people. I try to hold off until December. I don’t like to do all of that while I’m still dealing with the effects of all that turkey.

“SUI” – Shopping Under the Influence SUI – it also sounds like somebody is calling the hogs. Disturbingly appropriate.

Like gazillions of other people I have started doing most of my Christmas shopping online. It’s easy. It’s economical – no driving all over town. And I can do while sitting there in my underwear. That is something I would never do while at the Mall – again. (Just kidding there)

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Throwback Thursday from Nov. 2014 – The Morning After The Day Before

Throwback Thursday 

The Morning After The Day Before

A lot of people are calling today “Black Friday,” a piece of accounting slang indicating cornish hen dinnerthat today is the day when their sales ledgers go from Red Ink to Black Ink. Many retail concerns realize the majority of their sales for the year in the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas. What a way to live.

For me today is “The Morning After the Day Before.” It really doesn’t have a color. Everything is shrouded in an L-Tryptophan cloud. Rather than go battle the hordes of shoppers at The Mall I am spending this day fighting the urge to go back to bed or to catch a nap standing up as I wait for my coffee.

If I were to go shopping I’m sure that I would come home with – stuff. I don’t need any more stuff. My wife doesn’t need any more stuff. We really don’t need half of the stuff we have right now.

I’m just glad that I don’t have a “Bed, Bath And Beyond” store nearby. Whenever I go into that store I become enraptured by all of the “Beyond” stuff. It is like finding myself trapped inside every Infomercial extant on TV. I see piles of microwave cooking gizmos and various adhesives (in a selection of colors) that would enable me to drill holes in my boat without fear. But I don’t have a boat.

In a way it all takes me back and makes me feel young again. Strolling through a “Bed, Bath And Beyond” is like preparing to furnish a college dorm room with a wide range of stuff prohibited by the school in addition to things your mother insists that you actually need.

No, today is the day when I sit quietly in a stupor and let other people move the economy forward. I’m just not capable of being a cog in the commercial engine – tomorrow maybe, but not today. Today I am content to be little more than organic matter in size 10 shoes. I can and will respond to basic stimuli, but little more. Cogent thought and critical thinking will have to wait until the fog lifts. My wife has confirmed that I am quasi-capable of forming simple sentences aloud, but she doesn’t think I’ll be going much beyond that until Sunday. It sounds like today may be the perfect day for me to ensconce myself in ‘The Rip Van Winkle Memorial Chair’ and stumble through Netflix. Oh, look! Six thousand movies I’ve never heard of.

I’ll get back to you tomorrow.

We’re Goin’ To The HEB

WE CONTINUE TO BE DEEP IN THE…no, it’s not the heart. We’re down further than that. …Deep in the Pancreas of Texas. The weather is pleasantly warm once again and, Thank God, pretty much mosquito free.

We are staying in the old family home which is right across the street from the “Bonecrusher Arena” – the football field of Sinton High School. There was a game there last Friday night. The hometown boys lost 54 – 0. “Bonecrusher Arena,” indeed. At least they are showing improvement. The week before they lost 60 – 0.

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I Didn’t Pack For This

GREETINGS, YET AGAIN, FROM TEXAS. South Texas where for the last two days it has been colder than it has been back in Terre Haute (That’s French for “Ay, Caramba, hace mucho frio!”) I did not plan on this. I did not pack for this. I do not like this. The solution is: Go to Wally World and buy a sweatshirt or twelve.

I also did not pack so as to be properly dressed for a funeral. An uncle passed away suddenly a couple of days ago so we have extended our stay. Considering that my suitcase has nothing but Levis and Hawaiian shirts a more extensive shopping foray is in order. Wally World just ain’t gonna cut it.

All I really need are a pair of decent slacks and a shirt that doesn’t have palm trees on it. That and doesn’t cost too much.

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I Am Not Scrooge

WE ARE INTO OCTOBER NOW and in my mind that signals a major shift in my world. Leaves are falling along with temperatures and everyone seems to be already gearing up for “The Holidays.” I’m sorry that I can’t whip into my Happy Dance along with you.

“The Holidays” are structured around two groups – children under fifteen and people with more disposable income than me. I left the first group a long time ago and I’ve never had a secure foothold in the second.

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Errands Must Be Run

BUSY DAY TODAY. I have a list of errands that sort of stacked up while we were down in Texas dodging hurricanes. Some things can only be put off for so long and then they will stand up on their hind legs and demand attention.

I needed to write a couple of checks (I know, I’m the only person in the Western Hemisphere who still writes checks.) and then I needed to go to the bank to deposit a couple of other checks that were in our bundle of delayed mail. High finance on a small scale.

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The Old Soft Shoe

SOMEONE ONCE TOLD ME THAT I’D BE MUCH TALLER if I didn’t have so much folded under for feet. How does one respond to that – short of something rude, crude, and socially unacceptable? All I did say was, “Oh?”

I’m not a big fan of feet. I have two of them myself and neither one is all that aesthetically pleasing. The best I can say about them is that on most days they both reach the ground.

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I’m Only Following Orders 

ADDITIONALLY HAPPY, ADDITIONALLY HAPPY, MODERATE JOY, MODERATE JOY.

A little piece of the jigsaw of my everyday life has fallen into place once more. About a month ago the Little Chinese restaurant in the neighborhood reopened and yesterday the Dollar Store right next to it has returned to active duty. Both places were hit by a pair of teenage arsonists last August. The little intestinal orifices were caught, but I was in Pot Sticker and Won Ton withdrawal for a long time. Now, praise to heaven above, both commercial spots are open again.

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Welcome to Holland 

holland1A FEW WEEKS AGO I WROTE ABOUT A RETREAT we took in the Holland, Michigan area. It was an intensive week, but it was not all work and no play.

On Thursday afternoon we had some time off to relax and let our brains blow away the sweat. It was listed as free time so we decided to morph into tourists for a few hours. After stops at the local St. Arbucks for coffee and a mini-mart for a Dr. Pepper we headed into downtown Holland.

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A Fact Finding Mission

boxingWAIT! WAIT! LET ME HEAR THAT AGAIN!

This morning as I was sitting on the edge of the bed, barely awake, and still trying to figure out how socks work, I thought I heard something.

I had the TV on and there was an ad running for a local Terre Haute (That’s French for, “We need more wrapping paper.”) store – a place called Boot City. They sell boots and then some.

Doing the commercial was a young lady (obviously a relative of somebody from the store) and she was doing her best “I’m just a little ol’ country girl” accent. In her best Daisy Duke impression she rattled off a list of what they sold at the store.

And that was where either my brain shorted out or Boot City was branching out.

“We have over six million pairs of boots, and thirteen million pairs of denim jeans. We also have tons of Cowboy Jewelry.” (That alone should have gotten my attention.) Then she added something to the inventory that had me dropping my socks.

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Our Timing Was Bad

StaplesSOMETIMES STAYING CLOSE TO HOME can be a lot like traveling to places far away. My wife, the lovely and increasingly once more left-handed, Dawn, and I had such an experience just the other day.

There we were in beautiful Terre Haute (That’s French for, “Look, a parking space.”) and we decided to pop into the local Staples store to pick up a few things – we tend to burn through office supplies.

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“Luke, I Am Your Ad Man”


death starSometimes it is the confluence of two separate, and seemingly unrelated,things or events that produce the most interesting results.

The two things that I am talking about today are the upcoming release of another Star Wars movie and me reading last Sunday’s Terre Haute (That’s French for, “May the Force be with you at Walmart”) newspaper.

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Thank God For The Snack Bar

Sams Club crowdSOME DAYS YOU HAVE TO PUT ON YOUR BIG BOY SHORTS, grit your teeth and go into the eye of the storm. I did that yesterday. I made a conscious choice and, of my own volition, went into Sam’s Club.

Sam’s Club, the wholesale, really big box version of Wal-Mart, turns into a battlefield this time of year. By this time of year I mean that, while it is still early November for you and me, for Sam’s it is almost Christmas Eve. They are in full-tilt Christmas Shopping mode.

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There Is Music In The Air

mathis albumSOMETIMES 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.

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Mis-Matched Socks That Are Not Mine

Mismatched socksTHIS PAST SATURDAY WAS ONE OF THOSE MARATHON DAYS. I use the term Marathon in the sense of a long ordeal, because there is no way on earth you are ever going to get me to run 26 + miles for anything. In fact, you are not going to get me to run 26+ feet for anything. Let’s consider that issue settled, shall we?

Moving on –

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So That’s Why The Aisles Were Crowded

Grocery MoonwalkDATELINE: TWO DAYS AGO  —  ELECTION DAY.

Just as in towns and cities across the land it is Election Day in Terre Haute (That’s French for “This ain’t Chicago. One to a customer”).

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Attention Shoppers!

Black Friday Gif

 Boo!

There, now Halloween is officially over – the Pre-Season, if you will. It is time for the professionals to take the field. We are into the Big Time, Serious Holiday Season.

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God Is Still God

glovesNO MATTER WHERE WE HAVE BEEN – No matter where we are now – it is where we are going that matters more. We can’t change the past. Things will never be the way they once were, like it or not. Our Present is squeezed by so many outside forces that are beyond our control, but it is Tomorrow that we can plan for.

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I’m Packing It In

suitcaseWHEN I ASKED MY WIFE, the lovely and ever my Muse, Dawn, what I should write about for today, she said, “Write about how I am a Wizard at packing our suitcases for our Ireland trip.”

That is an abbreviated version of her reply. Her actual answer would have taken most of my 500 – 700 word self-imposed size limit for this blog.

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