Pointess Observations 2: State Fair Edition

In case you missed the first of these a couple of weeks back, I'll catch you up. These lists of Pointless Observations are a sampling of my internal monologue during a time I'm running through a lot of snarky comments to keep myself amused. (And seriously, has "snarky" still not earned its way deep enough into the established lexicon to earn a pass from the online spellcheck?) So, I went to the state fair yesterday with my sister, her husband, and a couple of nephews. Here's some of what I was thinking:

**Whoa, whoa, whoa -- where do you think you're taking that stroller, lady? Cutting me off like that would be a bad move.
**I wonder how many of the t-shirts being worn here today are XXL or higher. I'm guessing 40%.
**We've reached the critical tipping point where I can't distinguish between the smells coming from the food stands or the body odor drifting off of the other 700,000 people here. The only thing that stands out anymore is when someone lights up a smoke. And usually when I'm five feet downwind.
**I think I now understand why Bruce Springsteen's "Girls in Their Summer Clothes" has been playing in my head for the past two hours.
**I don't think I've ever eaten anywhere less sanitary than the state fair food building.
**Oh! Thank you, state fair worker, who thought that dollar bill on the ground belonged to me.
**I am so thirsty I can feel the tissue on the inside of my mouth absorbing this Diet Coke like a sponge before I even have the chance to swallow it.
**Aaaanndd... it took me exactly 35 minutes before I saw some kid from school. Never fails. I think Washington State was the only place all summer I was able to experience pure anonymity.
**Are you kidding me?! The Space Tower is only three bucks? I am so talking at least Matt into going on that with me.
**This is ridiculous. St. Cloud State has a booth. St. Mary's has a booth. Education Minnesota has a booth. And despite all of the tuition and union dues I have ponied up in my life, none of them are offering pencils for my collection.
**Seriously? Who buys a salad at the state fair?
**Where else in the metro area would I be able to see a overdressed woman with botox and diamond earrings standing in line behind a tattooed goth couple who can't stop pawing at each other?
**The booth for MyTalk Radio 107 has a sign advertising a "Lactation Station." I've never listened to this station before, and yet I think I have pretty firm grasp on what their main demographic could be.
**I wonder what the ratio would be between people wearing tank tops and people wearing long pants?
**Hey, there's KARE 11's Eric Perkins, doing that "walk around with a cell phone to my ear so people will think I'm talking to someone and won't bother me" thing.
**I think there must be some kind of law requiring any carnival midway to play "Insane in the Membrane" by Cyprus Hill at least once every five hours.
**Wow. Going by the airbrushed art on that 'rock and roll jukebox' funhouse, Avril Lavigne and Steven Tyler have to be blood relatives.
**Matt! Holy cow! You won the biggest Skee-ball prize! At least your brother won't be jealous and cranky about that for more than an hour.
**I should have turned on my treadmill app when we got here. According to my feet, my back, my knees, and that knot in my calf that's going to be even worse tomorrow, I've walked at least 80 miles since we got here....

My Summer in Haiku

I'm not a fan of poetry, and it's fair to say the year I spent as a declared English major was more than enough to guarantee I never will be. But earlier this month I entered a little Facebook drawing in which I had to write a haiku about something. All the people who entered had their names thrown in a hat, and a winner -- who was not me -- was drawn. The idea inspired me to briefly set aside my poetry distaste and do a summer in review post with all of the events described through haiku, just for the writing exercise of trying something outside of my wheelhouse.

I thought about giving each poem a title but decided against it. If you were involved in any of these events, it's likely you'll identify them. If you weren't, they might be head-scratchingly vague. Which, I believe, is what poetry is all about anyway. And I think I have all of the syllables counted correctly, but in case I don't, keep in mind that I hate poetry so I probably didn't check them as carefully as I should have. So now that I'm sure I've built up such sky-high expectations in anyone reading this, let's begin:

********************

Week-long vacation
forests, mountains, and desert
welcomed by good friends.


The Turtle Lake Fair
family reunited
music, games, and food.


Nephews in tuxes
David joins the family
late and humid night.


The end of Borders
liquidation tragedy
I stocked up big time.


Still fighting cancer
we raised one thousand dollars
cut short by downpour.


Midnight Radio
in the car and at the zoo
summer soundtrack.


Unsettled moments
Long week in the hospital
Dad's back on his feet.


Crowded dance floor
seen through the camera lens
happy bride and groom.


Enormous summer feast
opening gifts for an hour
happy birthday Mom.

Stand and Deliver: A Credo for 2011-2012

I can’t relate to the idea of life without a school year.

My world has included the anticipation of that first day of school since I started kindergarten somewhere back in the early 1970s. I spent eighteen years as a student, then one year navigating the nebulous role of a substitute hunting and praying to find a job. And now this, the 2011-2012 school year, will be my twentieth year as a teacher. Even for someone like me who often looks too hard for ways to assign significance where it may not always be warranted, this number is empirically a landmark.

Twenty years. I can think of few other things I’ve done in my life that cover that span of time. In those two decades I’ve worked with well over one thousand students, in four different grades, in six different classrooms, under three different principals and all in one building. Without knowing how the story will eventually conclude, I figure I’m roughly about halfway through my career. Conceding that I still have a great deal of experience ahead of me, I feel safe in saying that twenty years has given me adequate time to collect some formidable background knowledge, develop my style, hone my art, establish my network and define who I am in this role.

Am I writing today to ruminate on my history, or go on about how great I am, or how hurt my feelings are because pockets of the population undervalue my profession? Not so much. I’ve got all of Year 20 to contemplate where I am in my career. And yeah, largely because of my experience I do think I can be excellent at what I do. I don’t apologize for this, because I know how much work goes into achieving those moments when I break through to a higher level of success. And even though I believe too many people in our culture marginalize the efforts made by those in education, I’m more or less okay with that. From my perspective much of that criticism comes from people who are either making oversimplified assumptions about school, or are operating with some kind of political agenda. I’ve accepted that nobody is going to be organizing a parade in my honor anytime soon, and I’m fine with this. I know how things really are, and for me that’s enough.

Instead I’m looking ahead to what the coming ten months might hold. And this school year, the big 2-0 for me, promises to be an interesting one in many ways. After closing multiple sites and restructuring the school district to accommodate the revenue losses and population decline of recent years, our community is faced with the decision of whether or not to renew a levy on Election Day. And this is happening in the middle of a rather tenuous economy. If this levy isn’t renewed, the consequences would be dramatic. Additionally, our district has been positioned as the front line of an ideological battleground between two groups with passionately opposing beliefs, which has garnered no shortage of media coverage. And these issues are to say nothing of what it’s like for teachers to work within a shifting political climate where we find our efforts met with increasing disregard. With all of these issues lining up to present challenges throughout the year, I think it’s best to sometimes step away from the big picture and instead focus on what is directly in front of you. Which is what I’m doing.

For my students: You can learn. I don’t care what happened last year, or the year before, or the year before that. I don’t care what you did on your summer vacation. I'm not concerned with which nights you have dance. I don’t care if your parents are going to come to conferences with excuses about how they weren’t any good in math either, and then take you to hockey practice at 10 p.m. twice a week. I will work with untiring resolve to make sure that by the end of the school year you will amaze yourself at how much you have learned. But you know what? That’s only my part of it. Because I can’t open up your heads and pour the smart in there for you. Believe me, I’d do that if it were possible; my life would be so much easier. But that isn’t how it works. I’ll break the content down into tiny pieces and sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on it if that’s what it takes, but in the end it’s up to you to decide whether or not you’ll pick up the spoon.

For my colleagues, both in my immediate circle and throughout the profession: We know what challenges lie ahead, and we know how important it is for us to meet them. This school year, like any other, will inevitably provide us with moments of triumph and frustration and humility and wonderment. Our methods and priorities will not always perfectly align, but our goals are ultimately the same. If we remember this, any level of collaboration in which we engage, mandated or voluntary, will be all the more valuable and constructive.

For the parents: You know your children better than I ever will. There are so many things I could say to highlight what a dramatic effect the involvement and support of the family can have on the success of the child, but instead I’ll just keep this short and sweet. Get your kids to school on time. Take care of their needs at home. Make sure they keep up with their homework, and please send a note about it if they get stuck. I’ll take care of the rest.

Twenty years in and I still look forward to the beginning of the year with a great deal of optimism. Things start for me officially this coming Monday, but I’ve already spent a couple of afternoons setting up my room, arranging the desks, hanging up the posters, all the while letting the ideas of what I will do to start the year gradually creep into my head and begin coming to life. I felt great yesterday, knowing I had finished most of what I wanted to accomplish at that point, with the sun and the wind pouring in through the open windows and nothing but blue sky and green fields outside. It put me in mind of how much I enjoy the progression that stretches itself out over the month of September. The students begin to gel, finding an identity as a new class instead of just a collection of carefully selected names on a list. The schedule begins to make sense and slowly becomes second nature. In short, everything starts to click. I’m looking forward to being in the middle of that, as well as the work that will follow once it has fallen into place.

And is much as I’m looking forward to getting started, I am feeling a little pressure as well. The bar is set kind of high this time around, for a few different reasons. And even though that adds to the stress that naturally accompanies everything else about teaching, I’m ready for it. The expectations, the accountability, the conflict, the meetings that can spiral out of control, the dark and frightening moments, the explosive laughter, the friendly waves in the hallway, the repetitive questions, the occasional glimpses at the moral quagmires that shadow the most unfortunate students, the debates and discussions, the jokes, the marker stains on my hands at the end of the day, the burning frustration, the peace and thrill of seeing my students reach the goals they have set for themselves.

I'm ready. Bring it on.

Classic Rock Defined

I’ve been thinking about this for awhile now.

When it comes to rock music, the word “classic” gets tossed around far too generously. Classic Rock is something that seems to have this floating definition that depends on the perspective of the person using the term. One person’s idea of classic rock can be dramatically different from someone else's.

A few years ago I was in the car driving around with Nephew #1, easily the most musically literate of the nephews. The CD that had been playing when I picked him was Nine Inch Nails’ brand new (at the time) album “Year Zero.” It had gotten very strong reviews, both for its provocative political themes and its consistent sound. In the landscape of popular music at the time, “Year Zero” was thought to be a fairly important release. Plus it was just a good album.

Nephew #1 hops in the car and listens for a minute. “Who is this?” he says.
“Nine Inch Nails,” I tell him.
He sits on top of one his trademarked thoughtful pauses. “Aren’t they... old?”

I was almost offended. I nearly shot back, “What?! Old? Come on, this isn’t Crosby, Stills, and Nash! It’s Nine Inch Nails! It’s electronic, industrial music with really dark themes and offensive language! This is the kind of stuff that moderately uptight parents rightly fear!”

Now, before you go gettin’ up in my face about being the uncle who plays music with f-bombs around my teenage nephew, let me refocus to the point. I did not shoot off that comeback because I thought about what he said and decided that, from his perspective, maybe the band WAS old. After all, the first NIN album, “Pretty Hate Machine,” had been released a few years before he was born. So I didn’t really have much of an argument to make. And if anyone wants to give me a hard time about being a Nine Inch Nails fan, I’ll point out that the guy who pretty much IS Nine Inch Nails just won an Academy Award for co-composing the musical score to “The Social Network.” Just saying.

Anyway. The point here is that I never would have thought to label Nine Inch Nails as classic rock, regardless of how long the band has been around, but maybe my nephew would have. So how exactly do people label Classic Rock? Would it be similar to the governmental pornography definition/cop-out, but just changed to “I know it when I hear it?” Because I don’t even think that’s good enough. Take KQRS for example, or whichever dusty old-fart station in your hometown still has a playlist that mixes Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and the Eagles with Head East and Canned Heat. The station calls themselves classic rock radio. I disagree. Music being old isn’t enough. I think songs, or albums, or even artists, need to earn their way into being considered classic. So I’ve been working on a list of criteria on this, along with examples that I believe will prove my points. Of course, all of this is opinion because love of music is completely subjective. But as usual, I’m pretty sure I’m right. To keep this post from getting out of control, I’ll limit myself to ten items. Let’s get started:


(1) It has to be at least twenty-five years old.* That gets an asterisk because this cutoff is always changing, but twenty-five is a good, round number. I picked this based on that’s how long an artist has to have been around before he/she/they can be considered for nomination into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. If you want to be classic, you need staying power. 2011 - 25 = 1986. Let’s take U2’s “The Joshua Tree.” That came out in 1987, so in a few months it will officially hit the 25 year mark. Hard to argue that album’s status as classic.

(2) Classic rock is accepted by a solid majority of people as classic. Take The Eagles and The Doors. Both of these bands bore me to tears. But that’s me. The Eagles have a huge catalog of beloved songs that can’t be denied. And on the day Kurt Cobain died, I remember thinking “He just became this generation’s Jim Morrison.” And he did. And I wouldn’t have locked on that comparison so quickly if Jim Morrison wasn’t so widely revered.

(3) The music transcends its era. When you hear a Beatles song, does it sound like a 60s relic or does it sound like a Beatles song? How about Zeppelin? Okay. Queen, for crying out loud? Yeah, that’s right. Now, what about KC and the Sunshine Band? AH HA! Music from the 50s sounds like music from the 50s. Music from the 80s sounds like music from the 80s. It takes something classic to break out of that.

(4) The music transcends its genre. Metallica = metal. Motley Crue or Whitesnake = hair metal. Pearl Jam = grunge. Billy Idol = new wave, even if the wave subsided close to thirty years ago. Genesis = art rock or pop, depending on the line-up. Now, how about John Mellencamp? Not so easy to pigeonhole. The Sex Pistols and The Ramones were both huge punk bands. But which song will get people on the dance floor at the wedding reception -- “Anarchy in the UK” or “I Wanna Be Sedated”? Both songs could be called classics, but one of them is more strongly identified with that ‘punk’ qualifier.

(5) Classic Rock needs to come from established artists. No one-hit wonders allowed. Katrina and the Waves. ? and the Mysterians. Most of the acts from the disco era. Now, how about Van Halen? Or Bruce Springsteen? I’ll concede this is the point that could have the most exceptions to it; “My Sharona” by The Knack could be considered classic rock, and I might even call it that depending on my mood when I hear it. But all the same, I stand by the rule.

(6) Classic rock is not a guilty pleasure. This goes back to #2. If most people recognize it as a classic, you have nothing to feel guilty about. One of my cousins wisely pointed out years ago that nothing about music should ever be considered a guilty pleasure, which is an idea I try to live by, in theory. But that doesn’t mean I’m proud to have Quiet Riot’s Greatest Hits on my iPod.

(7) The music has to work as a whole. This is harder to define, but I’m trying to get at the idea of a song that doesn’t have something about it so distractingly bad it becomes the only thing about the song you notice, which takes away from the rest of the song. For example, I could never consider Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” as classic because the drums sound like they were recorded in someone’s bathroom, and that has always bothered me to no end. You don’t believe me? Remember that point the next time you hear it. (Plus there’s no way Twisted Sister could ever break far enough out of the glam-metal genre to be considered classic, so Dee Snider winds up a two-time loser here.)

(8) Just because an artist or band is recognized as classic rock doesn’t mean every song of theirs earns the label. Take Styx. We’ve got “The Grand Illusion,” “Come Sail Away,” “Crystal Ball,” “Blue-Collar Man,” and “Lady” to name a few undeniable classics. But what about “Mr. Roboto?” Um, please. Really? No.

(9) Not every recording of a song can be called a classic. How many people are really all that familiar with the original studio version of “I Want You to Want Me?” I’m not even saying who’s song that is to prove a point -- I don’t need to. You know who it is. You’ve sung along with it at some time in your life. But I bet you’ve only heard the live version. And which version do you think appears on this band's greatest hits album?

(10) For a song to be considered classic rock, it needs to have a certain amount of cultural gravity. The song has to have, in some manner, left a thumbprint on society. “We Will Rock You” is a perfect example of this. But to make the argument, how about Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes?” Personally I think that’s one of the most perfectly written songs in popular music, and I think a lot of people would back me up on it being a classic. But how about “Big Time” from the same album? “Big Time” still stands today as one of only two songs I have ever called a radio station to request (back in 1986 when I was packing up to move out of my dorm for the summer). But does that make it a classic? Not hardly. The same could even be said about “Sledgehammer” from the same album, though I think that was too big of a pop hit to earn the classic label, and almost approaches one-hit wonder status since it was really the only monster hit song Peter Gabriel ever had. But “In Your Eyes?” Hard to argue.

And on the subject of arguing, I’m really hoping to stir up some Facebook comments from this post. Not because I need an ego stroke and want to see my hit count shoot up, but because I think it could be an interesting discussion.

So let’s see what you’ve got, people. Hit me with your best shot.

(Yes, I’d count that one, too)

Little Kids vs. R-Rated Movies

When I was in junior high, my family was visiting some relatives in South Dakota. I don't remember what the occasion was -- I think it was a cousin's high school graduation. Several families were there for it, as has always been the tradition in my extraordinarily large and close extended family.

This trip was important because it was when I saw my first ever R-rated movie: "Conan the Barbarian." I saw it with a couple of my cousins who were old enough to get me in, even though we knew my parents weren't necessarily going to approve. Well, some of us knew -- the oldest of us who went is someone so guileless that it wouldn't surprise me if he'd thought I had permission to go. And this was back in the days before things like VCRs and HBO were widely available, so if you were going to see an R-rated movie, your only option was the theater.

I went into this feeling a combination of exhilaration and fear, and for someone who today makes such an issue about people talking during movies in the theater, I was too energized to possibly keep my mouth shut. The movie, for those of you who've never seen it (which is probably many) wasn't great, but you couldn't tell me this at that age.

But you know, I was in my mid-teens here. I'm not someone who would really describe myself as socially conservative, but as a teacher I have a real problem with parents who let their young kids (I'm going with eleven and younger here) watch R-rated movies. As somebody who knows a little bit about the psychology of the pre-teen mind, I can tell you that being exposed to the stuff that goes on in these movies can have a desensitizing effect on young kids. There are literally thousands of movies PG-13 and down that are great and more appropriate entertainment for kids that won't twist their sensibilities inside out.

I read an interview with Zach Galifinakis in Rolling Stone. He said when little kids tell him how great "The Hangover" was, he tells them they have awful parents and he means it. Sure, there are much bigger mistakes parents can make other than letting kids see R-rated movies, but I respect his point. If I have a kid in class start loudly blabbing away about an R movie they've seen just to show off to everyone else how cool and mature and sophisticated they are, I'll shut it down point blank: "It's an R movie. You're ten. It's ridiculous anyone allowed you to see that. Stop talking about it. I'm not impressed."

Where is all of this coming from today? Well, I just read an article online that reminded me that a remake of "Conan the Barbarian" is about to be released into theaters. We're kind of in the dog days of summer movies now here in late August, so there isn't much to pick from out there that I haven't already seen. So am I planning on going to see the new version of Conan?

Probably not. Because I don't want to run into any of my recent students at the theater.

The Next Logical Step in 140 Characters

Kind of a throwaway post tonight -- granted, that's not the best way to engage the reader, but you can probably see already this isn't very long so perhaps you'll still manage to read all the way to the end.

So anyway. While having a night of "I'm kind of bored" not long ago, I decided to start up a Twitter account. Just kind of dove into the idea without thinking too hard about it; I know, go ahead and pick your jaw up off the floor now. Ever since I started thinking about starting an account, it became about what I was going to do with it. I seriously doubt more than a dozen or so people in my everyday life are on Twitter (maybe I'll be surprised), and I already have three or four ways to get in touch with anyone I'd care to reach.

So then the question was about my platform: Do I want to try and have one of these pages where I just post a bunch of off-kilter one-liners and try to gain a following? Do I use it to network with other deluded aspiring writers? Do I move my Facebook 10-Word Movie Reviews there instead? Does it become a networking tool for my career? So many possibilities. But in the end I just decided to set up the account and see what happened. This blog surely became something different from what I thought it would be in the beginning, and I think that's worked out okay.

So if you're curious, my Twitter name is Tomulroy424. Or is it supposed to be @Tomulroy424? Something else I need to figure out. Anyway, go ahead and follow if you're on there. I'll follow back anyone who follows me.

You're Welcome

We have a new feature here on Summer Vacation, everyone! LABELS!

If you're fluent in the world of blogs, this isn't anything new for you. Labels are just categories of topics that tend come up in the posts. I decided to set some labels up when I was looking over blog features, so hopefully you imaginary readers will take advantage of them, and maybe come across something you'd like to read that you may have missed before; this thing has been going on for well over two years after all, so there I'd say there's a good chance that not everyone to follow a link here has read through all 176 of the older posts.

So what do you want to read about? Music? School? My neurotic observations? The thought processes that go into trying to write? Well, take a gander over at the right side of this window and read through the list of labels. If everything works right, all you have to do is click on a label and it will bring up every post I've written that has something to do with that category. Granted, I may have overlooked a couple when I put them together, but there's always time for corrections later.

So now catching up on things you've missed or revisiting things you've read before or just killing time in the middle of the night when you can't sleep is easier than ever. And hey, if you come across something you like, go ahead and post something about it on my Facebook wall, or leave a comment here. I'm pretty shameless about getting people to read this, which I believe was covered in the last post so I won't beat the point further into the ground.

Enjoy... hopefully....

Anyone?

Perhaps you've noticed the links off to the side of this window, where it says "My Blog List." This is something I've been playing with recently while exploring the features available in blog publishing that I don't necessarily use. There are a few blogs out there I like to follow so I've started building a list here on Summer Vacation. Probably will be a few more there in the coming days as well.

But I'm sure there are other interesting blogs I don't know about. So I'm putting the idea out there -- is there anyone who reads "Summer Vacation" at all and keeps their own blog who would like to be included on my blog list? I know from my perspective that when I write something the ultimate goal is for people to read it. I'm not aware of anyone who has me included on a blog list, but I know that when I get comments on the Facebook links that steer most of the readers here, or even likes after a post, those things seem to get more people to check it out. And on rare occasions when someone has "shared" a link on their own wall or sent it on to other people as a forward -- rare, but it has happened -- it really bumps up the hit count and gives me a nice little sense of validation for an hour or two.

So in the spirit of networking and community and all that, I'm offering anyone with a blog the chance to get listed here. And you know, even if you don't want to be linked, I'd still love to see what other people are doing. I think reading what someone takes the time to write about gives you added insight into who they are and what they think about, and I'd like to see those things if they're already out there anyway. And on the flip side, if anyone does read something here they feel strongly enough to share, hey, go right ahead. The fact that I maintain a blog should be proof enough of how starved for attention I am.

I've also seen a lot of blogs and writers that will write up guest posts for each other, which is something else that could be interesting. So I'll throw that out there too; if anyone would like to write a guest post on Summer Vacation or would like me to write one for them, or just has ideas for me to write about at some point, let's get some wordplay rolling around out there on the Internets. I know that in all likelihood this will be one of those posts that just kind of gets rolled over and politely ignored, but hey. You gotta ask the question to get an answer.

So, anyone out there with something to share, whether you want it linked here or not -- please let me know. I'd love to see it.

Pointless Observations

I can't be the only person who walks around with an internal monologue. The unceasing narrative observations, the snarky DVD commentary track of my day. Since 99 out of 100 visits I make to the grocery store I do alone, this seems to happen frequently while I'm shopping. Since it's been a few days since I've posted last, I decided to keep track of a few things that crossed my mind while I made my way through the aisles of my local grocer this afternoon. Maybe you'll find some of them amusing, maybe they'll remind you of the kinds of things you think about, or maybe reading this will be the most pointless thing you do all weekend. Let's find out....

**Seriously? Do they not have at least one pear without the imprint of a thumbnail carved into its side?
**No ma'am, that's fine. Stop right there by that empty cart. Block the whole aisle. Be sure you make the right choice about which Snack Pack you want. I've got nothing but time here.
**Now they have potato chips that are "slow-cooked rib" flavored? What exactly do they season these with to make them taste like not just ribs, but slow-cooked ribs? That's some food science going on there.
**Do I know that weird kid staring at me? Sorry, dude. It's summer. The mental database is in the "off" position.
**So Budweiser makes a wing sauce. I don't know why I find this surprising. If a beer company made an oatmeal someone would buy it and serve it to their friends during pre-season football.
**The Black-Eyed Peas have now fallen to the point where they've made the eternal loop of the grocery store music reel. A well-earned plummet into obscurity. See you guys on a VH1 millennial nostalgia countdown in a few years.
**I wouldn't mind buying some sweet corn, if this stuff didn't look like the raccoons came in here and had their way with it last night.
**JAZZ apples? That's a new one. Don't we already have enough varieties of apples to keep everyone happy?
**They always have that carton sitting there with the sign screaming "FREE APPLES FOR THE KIDS," and yet I've never seen a kid in here walking around eating an apple. Now, walking around with an open bag of chips the family hasn't paid for yet... different story.
**Okay, the produce section is very disappointing today. I'll grab some raspberries so I have a token fruit in my cart if anyone I know sees me in here.
**Are you kidding? "Jawlipop?" They sure named it right, because that's the body part that the doctor will have to examine after any kid tries to eat one.
**Those are the last two guys I would ever expect to see debating over brownie mixes.
**They have bacon-flavored Spam? Now I know where all the low-sodium foods get rid of the stuff they don't use. My hands feel puffy just walking by.
**So I guess it takes the average preschooler four whining attempts at choosing a cereal before they give up.
**WHAT?! They have a new 5 gum? I'm totally getting that. (By the way, it's called Swerve, and it's pretty good stuff.)
**The guy ahead of me at the register is only buying bacon and cheese dip. He might be a genius.
**I don't think I want to know why the floor at the end of the register is sticky....