THE SUPERMARKET CHRONICLES - Part 2

AN ODE TO SHOPPING LISTS

I have a confession to make. Before I state it I must add a qualifier first; anyone who has been kicking around on this planet for more than a few decades is entitled to be a little strange, so please keep this in mind as I reveal my slightly abhorrent behaviour.

Here's the deal - one of the things I like to do when I make the inevitable weekly trip to the supermarket is to pick up and read discarded shopping lists leftover from countless others who have made the same journey before me. I find it to be endlessly fascinating to read what items are essential enough to warrant being immortalized on paper, only to be discarded haphazardly afterwards.

One thing I have noticed from perusing these lists is that our cultural propensity towards leading manic and frantic lives has almost universally forced us to develop a sort of supermarket shorthand. For example; toilet paper = TP, chocolate milk = choc mlk, Frozen Pizza = Frzn Za . Its like e-mail without spell check or cute emoticons.

I know with my shopping list I guard them like gold. For some reason I find it to be a deeply personal revelation worth protecting. I mean, do I want others to know that sour cream and maple syrup are actually regular grocery items in my house?

I was also thinking how it wold be fun and kind of subversive to leave fake shopping lists lying around for other's to find. Here's an example of one I might leave, I call this one the MacGyver;

• plastic shoe lace tips
• paper clips
• matches
  
• chocolate
  
• sand paper
• chewing gum
• tin foil
• spool of thread
• wire coat hanger
• duct tape

I also think that if the average North American shopping list fell into a wormhole, traveled back through time and landed a into someone's hands in the 1920's, they would think we live in this totally magical place where you could buy fresh fruit any time of the year. They would probably envision oranges being hand picked and delivered by robots who worked in large domed fruit plantations on the moon.

I also think if the same shopping list was dug up and found 70 years in the future the reaction would be one of mixed horror and envy. Our little list would personify what would later be known as "the decadent era" of pollution spewing trucks traveling 1000's of kms to deliver oranges to us, after picking them up from large ocean freighters that also traveled halfway across the world. Our future descendants probably picture us writing our list while idling our car, eating fast food, talking on a cell phone and sipping a latte in a paper cup that only contained "10% post-consumer paper".

It really is an odd little blip in our collective history that we can buy oranges in December. Anyways, theses are the types of things I think about while shopping at the ultra-mega-super mart. Odd perhaps, but it does keep me somewhat sane. Sort of.

THE SUPERMARKET CHRONICLES - Part 1

My ongoing surreal adventures in the supermarket ....

Part 1 - Fake Plastic Trees

I am numb and disengaged, staring vacantly at a wall of glass freezers in the frozen food section. My listless facial expression is accented by an abundance of artificial light. There is a complete absence of shadow anywhere. My illuminated body is part of glaring and blinding mass, indistinguishable from my surroundings. I could be anybody.

I retreat into the safety of my Ipod and search for an appropriate soundtrack - Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead. I switch it on, keep my eyes low to the ground and begin my search for familiar grocery items. I could easily keep my eyes shut while continuing to walk around effortlessly.

The music builds slowly and begins to vibrate through my headphones. The words echo through my body - "her fake Chinese rubber plant, in the fake plastic earth" - I begin to feel disoriented and queasy. The vibrations expand throughout my body and somehow I have become a conduit for the music to be broadcast into the heavens. I can feel it everywhere.

Overwhelmed by this sensation I climb into my shopping cart and curl up within a womb of grocery items. Suddenly the cart begins to glide slowly down the aisle, propelled by an unknown force. I realize now that I am inside of the video for this song. The items lining the shelves have become indistinguishable from each other, save for blocks of colour that define each section - bright green, orange and yellow, items that could be anything.

Somehow my version of the video is different though, as there are no blatant and defiant signs of humanity among the endless plastic neon aisles. There is no one knocking over cans, shaving their head, or cat walking down the aisles. Everyone appears oblivious to the changes that have transformed the environment. People continue to shop as normal, carefully examining each item on the shelf despite the fact that they are all identical.

I begin to scream and stand up in my cart, though no one takes notice. The cart moves faster and I hold out my arms, knocking down row after row of items. The noise as various items smash and break is unsettling even to me, though it is of little consequence to anyone around me. People walk over the strewn items treating them like only minor obstructions, like dutiful robots staying the course

The music bounces off the walls and the words echo throughout the cavernous market - "But I can't help the feeling, I could blow through the ceiling, If I just turn and run" - the entire building begins to rattle and vibrate. It is so loud that you can feel the music more than you can actually hear it. The level of energy is intense and overwhelming and it feels like the whole place could blow at any moment.

Suddenly the music slows down to a whisper. There is moment of silence, perhaps a second, though it feels longer. In the corner of my eye I see something striking - an old lady is resting on a chair in the middle of the aisle, contentedly looking around at the chaos around her. She notices me and gives me a knowing wink......

The song is over and I am now standing over a pyramid of abnormally shiny green apples, not a blemish in sight. My cart is full. I wipe my brow, take the headphones off and walk towards the check out line. I feel alive.