Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Where's the beef?

Twice in the past week, I've gone to a place where I've seen dozens of frenzied souls. In many cases, they act like they're recovering from a three-week drug binge. They trudge forward almost in slow motion with dazed expressions suggesting that they have no idea why they're there and no idea where they're going. Some have even told me they don't really know what they want. They brought along a list, but it just gets too confusing. For the most part, they feel like strangers in a strange land.

Ironically, the true strangers to this strange land have no problems. They don't know where they are anyway.

In fact, last Saturday in this setting, I met up with one lady who lamented that she must be getting old. "Before I came here, I thought I knew what I wanted," she told me as I passed by. "Now, I hardly know my own name." I told her that was really bad because she's nearly ten years younger than I am. I also assured her that her confusion and her memory would only get worse. That was of no comfort to her. She didn't even want to stand and just visit with me; she seemed too weary for idle chatter with all that was burdening her mind.

I moved on. Where IS the toilet paper anyway?

There is a curse taking over at Ponderay's Yoke's Pac 'n Save, and it's doing a number on all the loyal customers. Yoke's is remodeling its store with a "fresh market" theme and disordering the minds of virtually every shopper who's patronized the place for umpteen years. There's that big open space in the middle of the store. All display counters have been moved aside, and most grocery products have found new homes on new shelves. The toilet paper is now at least ten aisles down from its former location near the dogfood. But then, the dogfood has moved too.

Yesterday, I dropped my mother off at the store. She had not shopped for two weeks, so I told her I'd hurry around to do my errands, which involved purchasing some paper at Staples, mailing some letters and stopping by Keokee to see Cheryl Klein's completed artwork for my new book. I ran into our longtime family friend Mardette in the parking lot and talked much too long, so I encouraged her to go to Yoke's to see Mother.

That would buy me some extra time, I thought. Seeing a train blocking the tracks to Ponderay and its post office, I stopped first at Staples. When I came outside, the train was still there, so I decided to go to the Sandpoint Post Office after all. Fortunate for me, the new Love stamps had come in, so Olie forgot to interrogate me on that long line of "do you want's?" After all, he'd already convinced me to purchase a sheet of the stamps.

Escaping there much quicker than anticipated, I went on to Keokee to see that my former teaching colleague, Cheryl, had done a magnificent job capturing the essence of Lincoln School where I started my education journey. The Keokee folks are equally pleased.

"I've got a Mother shopping at Yoke's," I said, quickly dismissing myself from the gathering. Driving down Cedar, I figured that by now Mother and Mardette had gotten into some serious visiting so I took extra time to stop at Nieman's to order a rose for Cheryl and a rose for my friend Helen who was coming home from the hospital. Wendy and I chatted long enough for her to tell me that son Paul is getting married in Mexico this June.

"Gotta go," I said. Back at Yoke's, I walked in to see lots of action at the checkstands but no Mother. We had agreed to meet at the coffee shop if she finished early. Jean Offerman said she'd seen Mother and that she'd seen Mardette. What she didn't tell me, though, I learned later. Mardette had never found Mother. She'd probably given up on finding anything familiar in the store and gone home.

There was no sign of Mother at the coffee shop, but I did meet head on with Larry Jeffres and his wife Mary Ann.

"I know something you don't know," Larry told me.

"Is someone getting married?" I asked, "someone like Carson and Karen?" Sure thing, I'd guessed right and took pleasure in telling Larry that Carson's was the second upcoming wedding I'd heard about in five minutes' time. We agreed that if they're getting married in Karen's hometown of San Diego, they'd better plan it for winter time if they want lots of Sandpoint guests. And, if they really want to draw a hometown crowd, they'll hire the Hoot Owl crew to cater the eats.

Larry and Mary Ann went on their way, and I continued my pursuit of Mother, still thinking I'd find her and Mardette jawing away near the catfood, wherever that was. I went to the ice cream section. No Mother. I walked past each aisle and stepped out into that big opening and still found no mother. I figured she surely had to be past the potatoes and bananas by now, so skipping the produce section, I headed for the meat department.

Finally, I spotted her down by the eggs, selecting a six-pack.

"I bet you've been visiting with Mardette," I said, confident that my mother enjoys Yoke's just as much for the visiting as for the shopping.

"I haven't even seen Mardette," she said. "I'm only half done with my shopping. I can't find anything." Fortunately, for Mother the produce, the meats and dairy products have stayed put. She still hadn't found the catfood or the Spic n' Span or the 69 cent paper towels. So, relieved that I hadn't left her to wait on me, I pointed her toward catfood and grabbed a bottle of Spic n' Span two aisles over.

After yesterday's experience, I'm convinced the only people who might be less thrilled than customers with the remodeling confusion are the clerks who have to field hundreds of questions a day of "When is this gonna get finished? Why'd they move the ------? What's that big open space in the middle?" They just smile and provide whatever information they know. Nonetheless, I'm sure it gets just as annoying as the old school teacher dread of those students walking in the room every single morning with "Are we doing anything important today?"

It's January. I've seen conflicting reports that yesterday or today are notoriously the most depressing days of the year. When depression sets in, change is good. So, I suggest that anyone who needs an emotional lift and some goodies for the cupboard, put together a list and head on down to Yoke's ever-evolving "fresh market" approach to shopping.

You'll not only see a lot of people in the same disordered mindset as you, but you'll also be embarking on some slight detours from what you're used to, and that can be a good thing.

1 comment:

Word Tosser said...

Good thing I like Yoke's better than Wally World... geesh, this is a heck of a maze... swinging aisle around going east and west, when we are use to North and South only.. best I can figure is they have switch the whole story from end to end, except the flowers, produce, meats and freezer stuff. It took my 6 tries and then the cashier to help me find envelopes.
This too shall pass.. dang well soon, I hope.