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The Simple Blue Cheese Life
I've been thinking about the good old days lately, and by writing some of the "Memory Lane" blogs I've been reminded of how simple life used to be. Grocery store right down the street, neighborhood schools (anyone remember Elm Street School, Hamilton Street School, Elizabeth Street School, Wall Street School, and, more recently, Broad Street School?) -- and channels 3, 5 and 22 on the black and white television, with a few French-Canadian channels thrown in if Dad adjusted the rabbit ears the right way. The TV Guide used to make special note of the programs that were available in color.
Yes, life was as simple as going to the store and buying a bottle of blue cheese salad dressing. Well, maybe not! I've just returned from what I thought would be a quick trip to the grocery store (not the neighborhood store) to buy a bottle of blue cheese dressing. I'm planning on hot wings tonight, and that celery and blue cheese combo is a must.
So, into the store I go, for a simple bottle of blue cheese dressing. Do I want blue cheese with gorgonzo? No. Simple blue cheese. How about 2% blue cheese or how about fat free blue cheese? No, I want the "plenty of fat" regular, simple blue cheese. I keep searching. How about blue cheese ranch? Hundreds of bottles of salad dressing before me, but not one bottle of simple blue cheese!
Determined, I return to my car and travel to another grocery store in search of simple blue cheese salad dressing. Again I fight the battle of choices. Several minutes into the fray I find a bottle that says simply "blue cheese." Victory at last!
It was a good thing, however, that I wasn't searching for ranch dressing. I'd have to choose among ranch, ranch light, bacon ranch, buttermilk ranch, peppercorn ranch, ranch fat free, and, the latest, Italian ranch. It occurs to me that life isn't simple any longer. A trip to the grocery store is no longer an errand; it's a journey, a safari into a jungle of choices.
And, I'm not the only one who feels this way. On my way to the next aisle to grab a jar of pickles (ever notice the choices in this category?) I spot a woman carefully examining two packages of rice cakes. I pass by and find the pickles. Do I want dill or sweet? Bread and butter or Kosher? Whole pickles, spears or hamburger dill slices? It occurs to me that I'm in over my head in choices, drowning in a sea of sizes, shapes and flavors. After five minutes I settle for the store-brand hamburger dill slices, the 32-ounce jar, and I head for the cash register.
But I pass by the rice cakes, and the woman is still there carefully holding the Quaker and Orville Redenbacher rice cake packages. I stop and engage her in conversation. It seems she's 85-years-old, grew up in Vermont during the Depression, still drives her car, doesn't own a computer and is stymied by the choices of rice cakes. She's longing for the simple life. Can't she buy a plain old rice cake? I look more carefully at the shelves and notice there are two major brands, plus the store brand, and more than enough flavors to confuse an 85-year-old woman who loves rice cakes. There's white cheddar, chocolate, chocolate crunch, apple cinnamon, caramel, butter and several more. I say to the lady, "I notice you've been here five minutes." She laughed and said, "And sometimes more than that!" It's plain to see, she misses the simple life.
She misses the time when a carton of orange juice was just that, orange juice, and you didn't have to worry about "more pulp," "some pulp," "no pulp," or "pulp only on Tuesdays and Wednesdays." And a bottle of cola was just that and you didn't worry about it being caffeine-free, or wild cherry or lime. Or, if it were Cola One or Clear Cola or 8-ounce, 16-ounce, 32-ounce or the "too-heavy-for-one-person-to-carry" size.
I guess you see my point. It's no wonder we yearn for the simple life. In those days our brains rested more, we had fewer decisions to make, we had more time to spend with family. It didn't take an hour to buy four items at the grocery store. Those hot wings will taste extra good tonight, knowing the battle I fought to get just the right blue cheese to go with that celery.
Comments
Foxy,
One problem I can see. The Hot Wings! During the simple life we didn't have Hot Wings, as a matter of fact the wing was probably the last piece of chicken eaten. Some "Moms" even left it in the extra broth to flavor the chicken soup for the next day. But I guess even I could give up Hot Wings for the simple life.
Mark
Posted by: Mark Schwartz | April 13, 2006 9:38 AM