Compared to some of the food palaces I saw in Socal, the Safeway in the big town about 50 miles away is nothing special. Compared to the little market in the pathetic town nearest where I live, it’s a wondrous place to make a rube wander around with his jaw scraping the floor.
Smelly meat two days past its sell-by date, kinda greenish because the reefer broke down again and nobody noticed? Veggie racks with a few soft green peppers, wilting celery stalks and sprouting onions? Not here, boy. At that little market, on the rare occasions when they’ve even got cob corn it’s sad skinny brownish wormy little things straight out of a John Christopher novel at eighty cents apiece.
I walked into this Safeway not intending to buy a thing. On the very rare occasions when I darken this place’s door it’s sometimes a good time to get red potatoes or Sauza tequila, or stock up on bulk barley. Great prices, too, compared to the aforementioned market. But money’s tight and my pantry’s in pretty good shape and I didn’t even have a shopping list. I was just there because D&L were there. Anyway I just like to wander around and gawk. But as soon as I cleared the entrance I was entranced and seduced by the huge display of … corn.
Big thick heavy ears of fresh corn from happily monstrous genetically-enhanced stalks, ‘club priced’ at 8 for a buck. So yeah. I spent two bucks…
…because my ladies loves them some corn on the cob. And now my babies are learning to. I’m indifferent to it myself.
And as I was grabbing my bags full of corn at the end of the counter, the check-out lady stroked my freedomista bone without ever knowing she had. You young folks may not remember the furor – well, we considered it a furor – fifteen years or so back when Safeway and some other chains hiked all their prices and then started demanding that you apply for a club card on a form with all sorts of contact info if you want better prices. Horror! Tyranny! Big Brother is watching you shop! As I was exiting the check-out line the cashier called, “Thank you, Mr. [X],” a name that was not mine own, because a bunch of people had applied for cards with made-up info and then swapped the cards around for extra-anarchy randomness. I’ve been carrying this card all that time and had completely forgotten the incident. I didn’t even recognize the name she called, it was probably made up at the time. Hope all that data collection did them worlds of good…
Oh, I do love sweet corn on the cob… Used to be able to get it really fresh and cheap when I lived near San Bernardino long ago. And then I tried growing my own. Oh me… it was so good and sweet. I’ve never tasted anything since that comes even close. Spoiled me forever, I guess. The corn we get here is old, often woody. It is almost always dried out and puckered. Bleah I don’t buy it ever… but I’ve tried to eat some at a BBQ this summer. YUK
Same thing happened to me with tomatoes. I have not bought a “fresh” tomato in more than 45 years. If I don’t grow them, I don’t need them. sigh
Hope your chickens appreciate how very lucky they are. LOL
I haven’t spotted one in my current location, but a couple of the previous places I lived, there were some sites where people just left piles of “loyalty” cards. Pick one up, drop another. And I used to get a new store card every time I went in to one place. The clerk would helpfully activate it and let me bring back my information “later.” I scattered those across the state in my travels. In fact, for some of the national chains, I scattered them across the country.
I gotta figure that those stores databases are so stuffed with BS as to be completely useless for marketing. You’d think they’d catch on after a few years.
Oh yeah, your local grocery store. Ugh. Having relied on it for a while, I can testify it’s every bit as grim as you describe it. I’ve lived in rural areas that have great little grocery stores. Maybe not gigantic, but well-stocked and with food as fresh as any.
But your local place could be run by a villain out of Dickens. I’ll never forget the blackening lettuce and the milk whose sour stink would rise from the carton the first time it was opened. Disgusting. I feel for you having no better everyday grocery choices.
FWIW, I must be a rube, too. Even with our great little store, I still get crazy-excited on the rare occasions I go into a Safeway (or even better, our wonderful Western wonder, WinCo). My Safeway card doesn’t get used me, but when it does it’s also not used by “me.”
Sigh. “Doens’t get used MUCH,” not “doesen’t get used me.”
Banging head.
We’re lucky for corn here in CO – olathe or sakata grown in state. And I could eat it all day every day, all summer. It has such high turnover in the stores that it’s always nice and fresh. Nom nom!
I’m glad I’m not the only one who remembers John Christoper. Gawd, that movie stank.
Funny on the Safeway card. ,I have no idea what name or number is on mine. It wasn’t a freedom thing, just a weird mistake with an old phone number.
The solution, Joel, as Mama Liberty said, is to grow your own. How are those raised beds doing and what is planted in them? Plant some fruit trees and berry bushes somewhere. Yes there are varieties that will grow there but you may need to do some water harvesting. Corn planted in animal poo and bedding straw is surely going to be a success. Is it possible to form a co-op buying club with your other gulchers, buy and have delivered to the close town, decent produce – and other things? My grocery store club cards have all phoney information.
Sure is miserable living in Florida and having good fresh corn year round.
}:-]
Those daggum loyalty cards drive me nuckin futz. Lowes has theirs and almost always ask for a phone number or such. Heck, I’ve have given them so many variations of my last three numbers, I have to look up my number to make sure its right when giving it out for legitimate purposes. LOL. Yah, the marketers sure have mucho BS to wade through even with all the zombies giving real info.