It was the Friday before leaving for Milwaukee. I had been venturing from Plymouth (where I'm staying) to New Hope in the last few days, in search of closer retail stores and anything else that might be interesting to see. Allyson lives right on the border of the two towns, so it was only about a three mile round trip.
The afternoon sun in front of Allyson's house.
The highway that separates these towns (Route 169) has no sidewalk crossing over it, so it was a grassy, gravelly trail, giving a sort of "demilitarized zone" feel to the town border area, that I followed. The trail was obviously made by the natural foot falls of thousands of other non-drivers. I frequently find odd things where there are no sidewalks, and today was no different. There was a baby's sock (there is always just one for some reason?), a smashed smartphone which I removed the 4 GB micro-SD card from--thank you very much!, an old campaign poster, the odd beer bottles, a blue wooden bead from a child's toy, a dead mouse, the broken, oil-filled glass tube from a tobacco vape pen, and on and on... Artifacts of the modern world. Were they to be uncovered by archaeologists a few hundred years from now, they might conclude that babies were vaping and drinking beer, voting for the local mayor, throwing one of their socks away in protest, and making mouse-crush videos.
I wanted to check out a new grocery store in New Hope, called Hy-Vee. The walk signs in Plymouth across intersections are not "smart" ones. If the turning process has begun (those green arrows for traffic across the walk), even pushing the button before straight traffic (traffic moving in the same direction as I am) has no effect on the walk light. What this means is that even though it would be safe to cross, the "don't walk" sign remains on, all the way through the entire cycle, until the next one begins. They are "stupid" lights--not their fault. Ha!
Well, in New Hope these lights are smarter, but the drivers seem to balance that out with their own form of stupidity. I stood patiently for the very long walk light signal to change, and when it did, I began to cross. Suddenly out of the corner of my left eye, came an enormous, extended cab pick-up--the kind you need a rolling airplane ladder to climb into. He drove in front of me so closely I could have breathed on the passenger's side window and written "asshole" with my finger.
I said out loud, "Hey!!", and walked around the back of the behemoth. When I came out at the driver's side, I saw the truck jerk to a stop. The driver's door opened and a guy a little bit larger than myself stepped out and faced me, like it was time for us to fight or something.
I was pissed. I walked right up to his ugly, iPod-wearing face and laughed in it. I saw his embarrassed woman sitting in the passenger's seat. I said, "Don't get out of your truck and try to intimidate me! What is this seventh grade? I had a walk light [which I then directed his attention to--still flashing "Walk"] and you almost ran me over! Get back in your fucking truck, you CHILD!"
He was nonplused, looked at me and then back up at the walk sign, and then back at me, then the walk sign, then me, finally stepping backwards. Having made my point, I just growled, turned and continued to the other side of the crosswalk. I heard him get back in the truck--now with several cars impatiently waiting behind him, and drove away. I thought he might peel-out, but he didn't.
I was still piping a bit, as I marched through the Hy-Vee parking lot, swearing to myself and thinking of all the other things I could have said to that meatball. This is how I deal with confrontation after the fact, wishing I had done more. The steamy pressure that had built up in my veins diminished, and I felt civil enough to walk through the automatic doors.
The store was immense--following that cookie cutter trend of giant box-grocery stores like Safeway, sprouting up everywhere these day. All across the country, you can't compete with the "big guys" now unless you (I'm sighing as I write this...), offer gasoline too--which you then provide a "discount card" for to all of your customers, crank up the price of that gas by the exactly same amount amount they will "save" by using the card, install an expansive (and expensive) food court of "Asian Food", a hot deli, a specialty bakery (which had an astounding 20 people running around working behind the counter!), an "exotic cheese" section (also manned by a dozen, white-coated, beanie-wearing cheese experts), a seafood section, "good" introductory savings which will last until the first business loan payment for the store has been made, then be cranked up proportionately to match the inflated gas prices outside, write "Sale!" in every single price tag, on every shelf...which, by the way, doesn't make it a sale anymore... I think you know the scene.
How these stores keep getting bigger, while their physical separation from each other shrinks each year, all following precisely the same business model, fascinates me. Wal-Mart started as a department store, and expanded into groceries. Now there are grocery stores - oh, sorry, SUPERmarkets - expanding into department stores. Each one has a different name, different ownership, etc., but one does get the sneaking suspicion (when one is bored and paranoid enough to consider the matter) that they might ALL be owned by essentially the same people.
However, my cynicism and generalizations are not necessarily well-founded--apparently. Hy-Vee makes a big deal about how it is "employee owned". I wanted to learn more about this, so I did a bit of research. This store chain - that I'd never heard of before in my life - has been around since 1930! From their website...
In 1930, Charles Hyde and David Vredenburg opened a small general store in Beaconsfield, Iowa. That store grew to become Hy-Vee — a company known for excellent service and reasonable prices. As an employee-owned company, Hy-Vee encourages each of its more than 78,000 employees to help guide the company. Its 85 years of outstanding success is a testament to those employees’ hard work and dedication to the vision of its founders. Today, Hy-Vee is synonymous with quality, variety, value and superior customer service. Its slogan, "A Helpful Smile in Every Aisle," expresses the foundation of the company’s operating philosophy.
[snip... with my underlines, to follow...]
With sales of $8.7 billion annually, Hy-Vee ranks among the top 25 supermarket chains and the top 50 private companies in the United States. Its more than 235 stores are located in eight Midwestern states: Iowa, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, Minnesota and Wisconsin. Distribution centers are in Chariton, Iowa, and Cherokee, Iowa, with a third perishable operation in Ankeny, Iowa. Hy-Vee’s corporate office is located in West Des Moines, Iowa.
I suppose when employees "help guide the company", and (presumably--I didn't have the patience to research further) they are offered internal stock options, etc., and therefore can officially call the store "employee owned", it does sound fair, equitable and egalitarian. That's great!
All the while, I personally just get sick of seeing giant box stores on every corner, in spite of how useful they are to me and how frequently I go to them. It seems we are homogenizing the shopping process. A few companies have ballooned out and their edges are beginning to touch each other. It will be interesting to see how these monopolistic wannabes will deal with things when they are no long able to fit another fat store in another skinny town.
All this pointless contemplation made me a bit peckish. So, I bought a can of sardines (bypassing the deli), a little packet of cheese and crackers (bypassing the cheese and bakery sections) and a lemonade, then headed back out and enjoyed my poverty--actually, for once, DID.
After so much excitement (perhaps I jest), it was time to journey back over Route 169 and visit one of my private places in Plymouth...
Highway 169, as a town border, looking north from the center of the overpass.
Trash bags that mysteriously appeared between my time in
New Hope and my walk back to Plymouth.
Shadows on the concrete wall, further past the private place.
Milkweed infested by toxin-loving aphids.
If only the swarms of ladybugs that have invaded Plymouth could be directed here.
I like how sumac gets that fading of fall colors in it's leaves.
As I stepped on to the Plymouth sidewalk, I set down the backpack, stuffing in the bag of food I'd just bought. I saw my bag of new underwear--just purchased the day before, and was reminded about just how happy it would be making me in the next two months...
Papa's got a brand new bag! [wink]
These are small cubbies where I can go to rest every now and then. They are usually in very public places, but are immune to the interests and curiosity of drivers and other walkers. My favorite one in Plymouth is located a stone's throw west of the Cub Shopping center, along Route 9--behind four large power boxes. I thought it might be different to take some shots of it for the blog...
My pencil graffiti. Well, what the hell else would I write?
Actually, there is a lot more there, but some things should remain a mystery.
The pathway in.
Ever seen the sun on the ground?
A resting place for "Saggy".
Peace behind me.
Peace above me.
Leaving the mark of the Wallk.
When I'd finished my meal and expressed myself thoroughly, the sun was well down below the leaf litter, and I departed for Allyson's house. She was working that night, so I went in, peed the two pups and sat down to work. The hours between 7:00 pm and midnight were not memorable ones, and when I looked at my watch I was surprised by how quickly they had passed.
I was hungry again, and remembering how good my successful omelette was a couple nights before, I was drawn to the refrigerator for another...
Yum!
It was time to lay myself down on the comfy couch. Joined by Peppy on top of the comforter and Bella squished into the side of it, with Molly the cat purring above me on back, I drifted to sleep. These were my shortening days of wine and roses (well, lemonade and sardines), but I appreciated every moment of rest I was having here.
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