My First Trip to the Supermarket As an Ex-Supermarket Employee

8:24 a.m. -- Walk in.

8:25 a.m. -- Mutter to myself, "Where the fuck are the red baskets?" As someone who's single and shops only for himself, unless I got a 24-pack of bottled water, I never a shopping carriage because I don't need to do that much shopping. I used to hate it when I walked into a supermarket and there weren't any red baskets at the front of the store. Also, as front-end supervisor it was drilled into me: "Make sure there are plenty of red baskets out in the lobby," because they want to make sure douchebag customers like me wouldn't say, "Where the fuck are the red baskets?" In life, everything comes full circle.

8:26 a.m. -- Find and grab a red basket underneath Register 13.

8:27 a.m. -- To the produce aisle, to get my daily ration of four pieces of fruit. Just a reminder to my ex-work spouse: pluots are out of season.

8:30 a.m. -- Off to deli. When I worked at The Chopper I almost never bought anything at the deli. It was a function of the high-stress environment, I guess. Better to calm my nerves with a slice of pizza of chicken tenders then a slab of lunch meat (also, if you save it it'll go bad before you get home). It was refreshing to grab some American cheese for a change.

8:32 a.m. -- Grabbing some 93% lean ground beef. Also never bought this as an employee. See above.

8:34 a.m. -- To the checkout! It's early and there are not a lot of people in the store. Unfortunately there are fewer cashiers. So I have to wait in line. I used to hate this as a front-end supervisor -- being understaffed, having to hop on a register myself. Here, none of the soops jumped on. So I had to wait. Luckily the cashier was speedy and I only waited a couple of minutes.

8:36 a.m. -- I accidentally drop a 12-pack of ramen onto the belt and it bounces and nearly pegs the cashier. I apologize to her. I've dealt with some rude customers as a front-end supervisor, but none who ever threw groceries at me.

8:38 a.m. -- Done. Quick and painless. And I didn't have to worry about being written up for anything.

2012 Election Night Redux, or An Open Letter to the Republican Party

From the night he was elected in 2008, I never once doubted that President Obama would be re-elected. Not when his midterm approval ratings were in the toilet. Not when he slept through the first presidential debate last month. Never.

I say this not out of any rah-rah cheering for him. I’m the ultimate political neutral. I posted my political leanings as Whig on my Facebook Wall. I’m liberal on some issues (mostly social and foreign policy) and conservative on others (mostly economic). I think Obama has done a good job in some aspects of his first term and a lousy job in others.

In fact, the reason I knew he’d be re-elected has nothing to do with him. It has everything to do with the Republicans. They can’t get out of their own way. They continue to make the same mistakes over and over again and then act shocked when they lose. This is now four of the last six presidential elections that they’ve lost, and had it not been for some blind/dumb voters in Florida in 2000, it might have been a Democratic clean sweep of the six. The Republicans had a chance to unseat Obama this year, and they blew it.

So I know Karl Rove is still arguing the results, but since everyone else in America has moved on, I’m going to list an action plan for Republicans to get their mojo back and maybe win something important in the future:

1)      Find a candidate who at least doesn’t look the part of a white male CEO – After Abraham Lincoln, who resembled a starving lumberjack, virtually every Republican presidential candidate since has looked like a guy who just walked into a board of directors meeting. The two exceptions to this rule were Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush, and people can say what they want about their politics/intellect. But is it a coincidence that both Dubya and Reagan were re-elected? I doubt it. Perhaps the worst example of a Republican called from Central Casting was your most recent candidate – Mitt Romney, a guy who’s physically incapable of sounding like anything but the corporate CEO we all love to hate. For one night (the first presidential debate) Romney was kidnapped and replaced by a cyborg who seemed to actually care more about people than money. And then that Mitt Romney disappeared, never to be seen again, replaced by the one we all know and distrust, the one who builds elevators for his cars, who calls corporations people, who gets caught saying he doesn't giving a shit about 47% of the country when he thinks nobody’s looking. There are Republicans out there who actually look and sound like real people. Marco Rubio. Chris Christie (if he doesn't eat himself to death before 2016). Mike Huckabee. And you Republicans would be wise to choose one who does as your next candidate. Remember, Republican Party, despite what Mitt Romney may think, corporations don't vote. People do.

2)      Move on from abortion and gay marriage – What you fail to understand, dear Republicans, is that all the right-wing conservative voters are already in your fold anyway. They’re not going to stray. Who else are they going to vote for? Stop being so anal. But the independent voters – that third of the country that ultimately decides every election, because one-third votes Democrat no matter what and one-third votes Republican no matter what – are not going to base their vote on a candidates’ abortion or gay marriage stance. There are always bigger issues. Yet you continue to jam the abortion and gay marriage planks of your party platform down everybody’s throats, even when many of your own party members are pro-choice and pro-gay rights. It’s baffling that the self-proclaimed “party of less government” somehow seems to need more government when the issue switches to our bedrooms. Also, here’s a neat little bit of trivia for you: what do Vermont, Maine, Connecticut, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Illinois and California all have in common? That’s right. None of those states have voted GOP since 1992, when you Republicans first went all-out on your family values crusade. That’s 152 electoral votes – more than half the amount needed to win the presidency – that barring a complete Democratic candidate meltdown you have no shot at winning. Is that a smart idea of a dumb idea, Republicans? Seems pretty dumb to me.   

3)      Stop blaming the mainstream media for your problems – It’s also bewildering how the self-proclaimed “party of personal responsibility” constantly uses the media an a convenient excuse when they lose an election, and continually condescends to the voting pool by telling us we believe everything the mainstream media tells (or doesn’t tell) us. Are there occasions of liberal bias in the mainstream media? Yes. Definitely. But that’s counterbalanced by FoxNews, which is basically a p.r. agency for the Republican Party. So it’s a wash. This just in, Republicans: people have brains and can critically evaluate a news piece and formulate their own decisions. When you bitch and moan about the media, you insult everyone and that only hurts your chances to win everyone’s vote in the future. Take personal responsibility in your actions, Republicans. You didn’t lose last night because of liberal media bias. You lost because you had a lousy candidate.

I’m not posting this because I like Republicans or want the nation to go all red-state. I’ll admit that I do appreciate the Democratic Party’s commitment to civil liberties and opposition to endless military interventions in other countries. But I’ve never been on board with the Democrats’ need to throw taxpayer money at every single one of the nation’s problems. And for that reason, I want a choice. I hope you read this, Republican Party. Because if you don't, we may only be a one-party nation going forward.

 

Move

As if switching jobs, soul-searching on my birthday and contending with Stormzilla Sandy wasn't enough to keep me busy, I also moved this week.

My lease at my old place was up. I have no hard feelings against my landlord. He's a good guy. I wish him well. I've had some bad landlords in the past and he is definitely not of of them. It's just that there are some things I need in a place and other things I don't need, and I found a place that suits me better at this time somewhere else.

I've also had some less-than-stellar success with moving in the past.

The good news: this was the least painful move of my life. It's almost like I wasn't even tired. Part of that is because I'm moving right up the street from my old place. Literally. I can walk to my old place from my new place -- probably a 20-minute or so walk but a walk nonetheless.

Finding this place, however, was complicated for a number of reasons.

As per usual, I had to give 30-days' notice that I'd be leaving. And 30 days ago, I didn't know whether I'd be leaving my old job (I had a lead on what is now my current job but it was far from a certainty that an offer would come from it), so I really had no idea where to look for a new place. Thus, I had to tell a little white lie to my landlord about why I was leaving -- i.e., my new job is too far away from here and I need to move closer to it. I wasn't proud of this. But I felt like I had to massage the truth.

The month went by and my work life began to settle into place. I did the final walkthrough with my landlord. He asked where I ended up moving.

I did some more massaging, and while I didn't give him my address (I don't need to, I paid first and last months' rent instead of first and security when I moved in), I told him that a new opportunity had come about and I'd be staying in the general area.

He was fine with it. We shook hands and he wished me luck.

And I feel better sleeping in my new place. 

Birthday Soul-Searching

"Scorpios are characterized as mysterious, passionate and brooding. They are known for both their deep feelings and their tendency toward a charming but edgy sensuality....Scorpios are also blessed with great creative zeal. You are subtle, sensitive and interested in relationships, but because the creative juices flow so forcefully in your veins, you simply require involvement, action and passionate experience."

-- From "The Oct. 30 Birth Date Book: What Your Birth Date Reveals About You"


An ex-girlfriend bought me that book one year for my birthday. She said it described me perfectly. I can't argue with her.

I've kept the book filed away in a box ever since, but I dug it out on Tuesday, my birthday, because for a good part of this year I've felt my creative zeal had disappeared. It's been a difficult year -- finding work, rejecting work, returning to old work, finding work again, working double-shifts, working nights, working again the next morning. I felt a little beaten down.

Part of it's on me. I have to rise above all the problems and distractions. I haven't always lived up to my potential this year. I have to find my creative zeal (both writing and all other things creative) and push myself to pursue it. I went from blogging almost every day to hardly blogging at all because I was having so much difficulty balancing life and work. There was no life. There was just work. I can't allow that to happen. I have to require involvement, as the book says. Force the creative juices to flow. I need to get back to working on my novel. I haven't done nearly as munch work on it this year as I would like. I want to be charming and edgily sensual going forward. I want the rest of my life to be one of passionate experience, one without regrets.

I'm not much for New Year's resolutions, and this is not a birthday resolution. It's just a public prodding to myself that I can do better. I want to live up to my inner Scorpio.

Phil vs. Sandy

So far I'm OK.

Work was fine. The lights flickered several times late this morning thanks to Hurricane Sandy but we never lost power. I spent much of the afternoon replenishing the cooler just in case. People need their milk, water and, most importantly, beer.

On the way home, I felt my car sway a few times on the road. The winds were wicked. It was also raining about as hard as it's been all day and once I felt like my car might start to hydroplane. But it righted itself and I was fine.

I wanted to do laundry (I mean, I still have to live my life) but the laundromat was closed.

My winter coat is soaked. It's actually kinda warm outside, but I need to winter coat to absorb all the rain that pelted me all day.

I wondered whether I'd have power when I got home. I do.

So really, despite a few tense moments, everything's been OK. I'm not in New Jersey and so I;m catching a break. I hope the best for them, that it's not too bad a storm. I'm toying with the concept of heading out to Wendy's (if they are open) for dinner tonight. I look forward to things beginning to slow down.

So far I'm OK.

Knock on wood.

Phil vs. Coffee

I hate coffee.

I realize this puts me in the minority of the adult world, but I can only be me. So I don't drink coffee. To me it tastes like liquid dirt. I get the whole caffeine aspect, and I'm certainly not a morning person, but I'd rather have a Coke or pop a few Vivarins if I need a boost when I first wake up.

But for my new job, I will occasionally have to open the store, which means I need to make coffee for the rest of the coffee-drinking world.

This is a whole new experience for me. I've never even made coffee in my life.

I tried. I did make a few mistakes. One time I didn't put the filter in. I spilled a lot of grinds across the counter.

But I more or less have it figured it out now. I can make seven pots in a short period of time.

I just won't be drinking any of it.

In Memoriam Bob The Cat: ???-Oct. 24, 2012

I don't have cats, but cats seem to like me. Exhibit A: Bob the Cat.

He's my friend Dianne's cat. Bob had adopted her by virtue of appearing on her property at some point in the early 2000s and claiming it as his own. Eventually, she let him in and he became the family cat. But he was quiet. He rarely came out and socialized with them.

Until he met me in 2002. I put my hand out. Dianne said, "He won't come to you. He's antisocial."

But he marched over to met and craned his neck so I could pet him. A friendship was born.

She had no idea how old he was. We suspected, because of his size and energy level, maybe 4 years old. I got a kick out of him because he had a stub for a tail. Dianne thought Bob may have had his tail run over. Personally, I think he's just a Japanese Bobtail cat, which unlike most breeds only has a stub for a tail because of a genetic defect.

We had some great memories with Bob. We called him Hurricane Bob. We would shout, "Bob!" every time he entered the room and he would meow in response. He watched football with us. He loved having his neck scratched.

But recently he's become frail and thin. Cats age just like all of us. They don't last much more than 14-15 years, and as best as we could tell that's about where Bob was at. Saturday, Dianne broke the news to me. On Wednesday, while I was saying goodbye to The Chopper, Dianne went to the vet and put Bob to sleep.

That fateful morning, Dianne said Bob wandered over to a neighbor's German shepherd, seemingly in an attempt to commit suicide by dog. I hate to see Bob suffer and it was probably for the best.

Bob now lies in a coffin buried in Dianne's backyard. I kind of wanted to dig him up and scratch his neck one last time. But he's in a better place now. And he's at peace.