Just like Jimmy Buffet and his shoplifting partner in one of his early songs, my wife and I had our two-person operation all down on a note.
She drew up the weekly supermarket shopping list and put it into the computer. I went over it and added or subtracted where I thought necessary. We hit “send” so the store would get our order ready for us to pick it up the next day outside the store.
It was the perfect – until we drove to the store to read the phone number off the sign in the special parking spaces and call inside to request that our groceries be brought out. That is when we discovered the weakest link in our modern-day survival plan: Neither of us had brought our cellphone!
Unlike most people today who have their phone permanently glued to their hands, we often forget where ours are. (Our phones, not our hands.) I sometimes leave my phone at home when I drive to work and we can go entire weekends without turning the devices on, simply because they are out of mind when they are out of sight.
Lest you think we have gone off the grid on those weekends, we still carry on conversations with friends and kids by using our home phone.
Yes, we have a landline phone. So sue me. We tried to have that connection cut, but found it felt wrong, like calling in sick to work when we still have use of our legs, or giving a gift card at Christmas instead of putting some thought into a gift.
It’s a generational thing, of course, and mine is not one that considers phones as essential as, say, oxygen and chocolate. No, we hail from the Get Her Done generation (you will notice that ours was the last generation to use correct English), when we used to win wars and didn’t even start most of them. I barely missed landing at Normandy, but if I had been on those beaches, I wouldn’t have been caught dead with an iPhone in my fist.
But even Get Her Done veterans’ bodies wear down and since I still had some use of my legs at the store, all I had to do was hobble inside and tell them we were there. A pleasant woman brought out food out with a smile.
OK, so we received 36 eggs, way too many for the two of us. We obviously misordered somewhere. That’s OK; our daughter accidentally bought three 10-pound bags of potatoes recently and, even with four kids to cook for, had to freeze many of them. (The spuds, not the kids.)
As you know, the food industry is in flux. The guy who owns Amazon has bought Whole Foods and lowered prices, just as the Augusta store closed. Companies are shipping the ingredients for meals in big boxes and all you have to do is cook the stuff like a paint-by-number picture. In a year or so, the stores probably will be delivering our grocery orders to our homes. Can anyone say “drones”?
Reach Glynn Moore at (706) 823-3419