Tag Archives: shopping

Put it all in the basket, if it fits

2000 Years to Christmas

Well, now, I’m not sure we need that. At least, not in that quantity. And for god’s sake, none of those. What are we, made of money? Budget, my little friend, budget!

Oh … hi, everybody. Allow me to pretend that I didn’t know you were there. (Thank you for that indulgence.) You just caught us in the midst of a semi-monthly shopping trip. We go to the big market in the middle of this very humble little town and wheel a cart around. Then, once we’ve realized that we don’t have enough money to fill the cart, we push that aside and pick up a shopping basket.

No trouble like money trouble

You know what they say. There’s no reek that beats ass, and there’s no trouble that beats broke. (Is that really what they say? Well …. someone says it somewhere, I’ll wager.) Shopping trips always remind us of how little capital we have to work with. And before you crypto currency freaks start jumping all over my shit with investment opportunities and NFTs, let me emphasize that NO, WE DO NOT HAVE ANY MONEY. WE CAN’T EVEN FILL A SHOPPING CART.

Now that I’ve said that, let me contradict myself. We can afford small things. Not small diamonds, mind you, or little bits of gold. No, things like leeks, individual walnuts, an apple or two. (If we keep going with this, we could end up with a waldorf salad.) In any case, I don’t want to paint too grim a picture. We don’t want any pity – no pity, no thank you. No THANK you. (For more about the significance of this phrase, see Rod Steiger in In The Heat Of The Night.)

Just forget it, Abe. We ain't got the scratch.

Shameless plea for help

Okay, now I’m going to contradict myself again. The thing is, with prices on the rise (and I know you’re heard all about it), we’re getting less and less into that little shopping basket. For instance, instead of five leeks, we’re down to three. We even have to ask the nut monger to cut a walnut in half for us. Can’t imagine the dirty looks we get when we make these requests. It’s humiliating …. JUST HUMILIATING.

The thing is, you can help … and it won’t cost you a dime. Let me ‘splain. There’s a little thing out there called the internets. Turns out, you can listen to music over the internets through a variety of means. Maybe you have Spotify, or Apple Music, or Amazon Music, or whatever the fuck. Okay, so go to one of these services and look up Big Green – particularly our albums, 2000 Years To Christmas or International House – and play any one (or several) of the tracks. In fact, just build a playlist of both albums and run them on a loop while you cook dinner (and perhaps listen to something else on another device).

Mother lode of sorts

Now, if you’re subscribed to one of these services, the fee for playing our songs is zilch. But we get valuable revenue. It’s an astronomical return. By that I mean, like with a distant star, you need a telescope to see it. I think we get $0.000978 per play on our tracks, but I may be exaggerating. That’s the miracle of the digital marketplace at work, my friends.

Of course, that adds up over the centuries. Who knows – there may come a time in the distant future when we can afford maybe six or seven leeks in out shopping basket.

Plague times.

Greetings from my corner of our national COVID-19 quarantine. As someone who is not unaccustomed to a certain amount of social isolation, I can say with confidence that this new normal has even me a bit more than creeped out. When I was in my teens and twenties, I wasn’t a big believer in psychology, but perhaps the only real advantage of advancing age is that it gives you an opportunity to discover the things you were wrong about earlier on – for me, one of those items was the fact that psychology is a thing that affects me. So, while my life is not all that different from the way it was before this crisis, I feel a lot different … and not in a good way.

Part of what I find disturbing about this pandemic scare is the degree to which so many people in my community are acting out of fear. I don’t mean to single central New York out in any way – similar effects are being seen all over the country. But when I go to grocery stores now, in particular, the evidence of panic buying is all around. I went to the supermarket at 7:30 a.m. last Saturday – half an hour into their business day – and there were gaping holes throughout the inventory. Because it’s kind of a white-dominant bedroom community, the missing items read like Ozzy and Harriet’s shopping list: iceberg lettuce, white bread, cans of tuna fish, jars of tomato sauce, canned soup, frozen vegetables, etc. Of course, paper products were cleared out entirely … 30 minutes into the business day!

Trump's empty America.

Weirdly, it didn’t seem like there were all that many people in the supermarket. And people didn’t seem frenzied, and they didn’t appear to be buying any more than I would have expected to see in their carts on an ordinary shopping day. Strangers were even interacting with me, in a friendly way, which was encouraging. And yet … the shelves were bare, as if Visigoths had marauded through the place a half hour earlier. Like the Coronavirus itself, panicked citizens seem like an invisible menace; you seldom actually see it, but you can see its effects. Then, of course, there are the follow-on effects: when people know their neighbors are buying everything in sight, they then go to the store and stock up before the goods are all gone. Selfishness starts to rule the day as people compete for consumer items suddenly in short supply. This is what late-stage capitalism looks like: very similar to the capitalists’ own distorted stereotype of socialist privation – empty shelves, desperate consumers, valueless scrip.

Of course, now that capitalism is in crisis (businesses shutting down, the stock market crashing), it’s time again for socialism! Trump and the Republicans, along with corporate Democrats, are reaching for massive state intervention in the economy, cutting billions of dollars in checks to individuals, back-stopping banks with enormous credit guarantees, dumping public cash into enormous, well-connected private corporations. All of the television austerians have come to their collectivist Jesus, much like they did in 2008-09. (Elect a Democrat, and trust me, they will be deficit hawks once more.)

So, no, you’re not hallucinating. This is all actually happening. Please stay safe, wash your hands, etc., and don’t freak out. We rely on each other to keep our heads – that may be the most effective thing we can do right now.

luv u,

jp