Trip to the Red Bull's Eye

Sometime early afternoon the VOR, #3, and I headed out of the city to the local shopsthatareeverywhereelseinAmericaasphaltcentral so we could patronize a Minnesota based upscale (at least that is what they want me to think) KMart. Minus the fantastic night in Gretna to our first parade this marked the first time I have ventured out of the city in the past few weeks. (Benefit of living in a cool place, you never have to leave). So we strolled around the store where people where red tops and khaki pants for a good hour or so. (Supposedly the VOR said she would have completed her shopping experience in 15 minutes if I had not tagged along).

Not to sound too Jerry Seinfeld but have you noticed that damn near every grocery item has calcium in it? Bread with calcium, cereal with calcium, orange juice with calcium, potato chips with calcium. Pretty soon Americans will turn into one big bone, we will become one giant femur looking species where all of the Plutos of the world will just sit around and gnaw on us throughout the day (see Bone Sweet Bone, 1948 Disney).

The other striking find: Rhodia writing pads. I had heard that they were now available at the one store that bought all the advertising in the New Yorker a couple of years ago but doesnt sell the New Yorker in its stores but had yet to actually see the pads there. I saw them today. They were in the sale bin! Lying on the bottom of the sale shelf wallowing in pity, self-loathing and utter abandonment were two No. Rhodia pads one black, one orange. I bought the black.