the Last of My Kind

In the post title, one of Jason Isbell's songs, he sings:

"Daddy said the river would always lead me home / But the river can't take me back in time / And daddy's dead and gone / The family farm's a parking lot for Walton's five and dime....."

I found the lyric clever and cutting, not knowing at the time that before it was named Wal*Mart, the stores were called Walton's Five & Dime. 

I can count on one finger how many times I have been to Wal*Mart to purchase anything. I traveled to Boise for a business meeting and somehow forgot to pack socks. Their store was open 24/7, so on a Sunday at 23:00, I was buying black acrylic socks. They didn't carry anything with cotton fibers.  

Shocking. {said with sarcasm, obvi}

What is shocking is that one of the Walton heirs spent a few million dollars on a full page NYT ad yesterday touting the No Kings protest which I mentioned two days ago. 

My honest to g-d first thought was, "fuck, now we have to shop at Wal*Mart".  But the store is disavowing any association with the heir or the ad. 

So, phew - bullet dodged on the shopping aspect. 

Still, what a break in the ranks, no? 

Granted I know zilch about the Waltons, except for the fact they're all billionaires. Whether they purposefully do it or not, they cater to the MAGA crowd. It's just a socio-economic circumstance, but no doubt they feed into it for return customers. I'm assuming below them is Dollar General. 

I don't think MAGA knows the difference between the store / board / other Waltons vs this one Walton. 710 tells me they have called for a boycott of Wal*Mart. 

Where they fuck would they shop? 

That said, if Wal*Mart took a financial hit due to a boycott, I wouldn't really care. Two birds. One stone. 

And hey, if that ad increases the No Kings attendance, so be it. Though I don't think a lot of the Wal*Mart demographic are NYT readers. 

Sure, I could be wrong - but I think we know I'm not. 

Song by: Jason Isbell & the 400 Unit

Boys of Summer

Well, THAT was $50 down the drain.  

Admittedly, I haven't been following baseball as much this year as in the past. 

Perhaps it is the transition from the Indians to the Guardians, and while little has changed but the name and ugly logo, I felt disconnected from it all. 

I knew they were in first place in the Central Division. I knew "we" had that sewn well before the end of the season.  

....but then it was post-season and I had nothing to wear. 

I had not bought one 'Guardian' anything. I felt bad-ish. So off to the team shop I went. 

This is a problem for me in many ways. In my pea-brain, I have an idea of what I want and what I think should be there.  This never matches up. 

Designs and styles are always wrong - in my honest opinion. But like most of my clothes shopping, it's impulsive and turns out to be wrong. 

I actually am ok with the design on this shirt. But lord, it's dated. Already. 

Post season was short lived. Yeah yeah, we beat Tampa Bay, which led it to Round Two with the New York Yankees.  But yesterday we lost that series in four games. 

So instead of just having a team shirt I can wear anytime over the years, I bought into the generic post-season, which technically could have gone through the World Series.  

And since it was special post-season, I only paid $50 for..............a t-shirt. One that is a reminder we didn't actually get far into the post-season. 

Way go go, Blobby. 

Song by: Don Henley 

Baggy Trousers

I went quasi-annual clothes shopping over the weekend.

FAIL. 

I'll back up a bit. I don't know what gays like to go shopping, I don't know any of them. I know some exist for the love of 'retail', but g-d help me, I think I'd rather have a cavity drilled without novocaine than go to stores, try on clothes and purchase them. 

Such as it is, I go only when absolutely necessary. Or every other year - whichever comes first. And even then.........even though I take myself, I swear I have to drag the proverbial me kicking and screaming from the car to the store. 

In theory, I know what I want. In reality, I have no idea how to get it.  

Ok, that's a big fat lie.  I'm inpatient, so I become rash, quick and I end up making horrible and pricey choices just to end the event. 

I knew I needed some dress shirts for work. We have a LOT of them. Or had. They're dwindling. I don't know if we have sharp elbows or if the dry cleaning solutions fuck them up, or if it's just age - the shirts, not us - but we go through these spurts of ripped elbows. Almost always the left one. 

I'm like Bruce Banner.  Unfortunately the Bill Bixby one, not the Mark Ruffalo one. 

710 and I kind of found a size we both could use, doubling our shirt wardrobe, but in reality, some of the shirts I was kind of drowning in. So, I had the clerk measure me, and I got some better fitting shirts for me. 

Pants - ugh. Different story.  I don't have any pants which I like. I don't need for them to show off my junk or show off the curve of my butt, but I don't need them sagging like I have a Depends beneath them either.

710 suggested a store to go, and get them fitted. When he says things like that it sounds reasonable. When I go and do it, I considered him a lunatic. 

What does Blobby do?  Grab five pair of pants - not the alterable kind - try them on, reject two, buys three, but doesn't like any of them.  This is spurred on by coming out of the dressing room and having wives, mothers and girlfriends back there waiting for their husbands, sons or boyfriends to come out to model their wear. 

Get the fuck out of my way and away from the mirror.  Yes, there were no mirrors in the dressing rooms. And better yet, get out of the Men's dressing room.  Period.   I'm frustrated (clearly!) so, I grab my pants, and the shirts which I've picked, and go to the register.  The total, in my mind, is ridiculous. But it's Apple Pay so it doesn't feel like I'm really spending a thing with my face. 

At the check out, I see the racks of unaltered pants. Dozens of them. I'm thinking I should stop this transaction and go over there and do what I should have done in the first place. But I feel I'm too far gone. And you know, I don't want to be there for 38 more seconds.  So I'm not. 

I wasn't even out of the parking lot when I rationalized, I will bring back each pair of pants. I didn't like one of them, yet I had three of them. I heard the clerk tell someone else they had a 90 (!!!) day return policy, as long as the tags were on them. 

On them?  They're not even out of the bag, or out of my car. 

I'm wondering if I can talk myself into going back into a store within the next 90 days to even make the return. 

.....and we didn't even talk shoe shopping!

Song by: Madness

Someone Keeps Moving My Chair

My friend Jon said this should be my Shopping with Blobby segment, but it seems so spot on, it's just too obvious. 

I'm a gay who is just not built for shopping. 

I hate it all, save maybe groceries - and even then, not always.  Clothes, shoes, cars, housewares are all just awful experiences most all of the time. 

The charm wears off after about 97 seconds. Due to that, I have ended up making poor choices in all those aforementioned categories. 

This is why when I find a pair of work pants I like, I just get 4-5 pairs in every colour and call it a day. I try on one pair and assume the others will fit. Ditto with shoes. 

It becomes problematic with automobiles, because, deep down, I kind of really like cars. I just hate the process SO much. This explains the four bad Mercedes years I had. I ended up HATING that car and it was mostly due to just finding a car and being done with it.  Expensive failure. 

Furniture shopping is..........well.......complicated. It's not like clothes or even a car. Harder to select. Harder to visualize how it will work. Harder to get rid of. 

In our first house we I made some quick decisions so we could "fill the house", which we would find out, sooner than later, were things that we didn't really want, like or actually fit. And I'm talking most of it. At this point, one of my nieces is the recipient of more than I care to admit - and some was just given away when we moved to this house.  

Yes, we lived with some of it for 22 years before ridding ourselves of most of it. We still have three pieces that I'd still be ok with 86'ing. 

So this time: new house, new beginnings, new furniture. At least for the main floor - the living room and library specifically. And we've been here about 20 months, living with the space while making very very slow decisions. Covid has not helped matters at all. 

710 and I have had several failed attempts at shopping in the last year. With thousands of choices, oddly, there was little to nothing that felt right and to the point where we couldn't and didn't want to step one foot in yet another store. To complicate matters, of course, we don't always see eye-to-eye on style, size, colour, etc. 

Yet I've been pushing to make the move and start looking and making some decisions. It doesn't have to be all of them. 

There's been a lot of looking on-line. A lot of discussions. Through this, we narrowed down a number of items from a few different locations. Saturday, I made us get out - leave Shep at home - and go look in person, with targeted items, thus limiting our look time, and decrease our / my frustration level. Because, let's face it: if I'm frustrated, I'm gonna make 710 frustrated.  It's science. 

Stop 1 was for a choice of two sofas and to confirm we wanted to living room chairs. The chairs decision was agreed upon quickly. The sofa took some time. Now it wasn't just two - but one had two variations, plus the other option we were considering. I nixed the one variation quickly and we were back to two. Our initial choice was no longer the front runner, but it had a March delivery time (allegedly). Our new lead one was in July.  Ugh. Supply chain!

We eventually went with the newer lead, but between the time we sat in it to the time we ordered it - you know, 20 minutes - the delivery time is now in September! The chairs, sometime in May. Allegedly. 

While there, we also looked at window treatments and rugs and Blobby started to get fidgety because we still had one more stop. Between the two, we decided just to walk around, cool down and feel less fatigued. 

Stop 2 should have been fast. We decided on two chairs for the liberry. I thought we did. But then there were different leather choices. I was fine with the display. Apparently that was just me. Francis (well, that's what I named him) brought us a variety of samples and I had to compromise. But "Francis" was one of those cloying sales folks. He heard 710 use my name, to which he then used it frequently....and then to emphasize a point would touch my arm in the process...........in a pandemic. 

I totally get the repetition helps him remember and tries to make a connection with me, but it just felt weird to me. He mentioned his husband once and I whispered to 710, "how dare he thinks we're gay too!!". 

Listen, if I can't have fun during these excursions, you may as well just physically torture me. Though you never know - I might like that. 

We thought we'd be gone like 90 minutes.  Three hours later we were home.  Totally, mentally spent. 

These are not all we need, but it's all I could stand for now. It will come together eventually. With delays everywhere, maybe not until 2023, but.............it'll happen. 

I think. 

Song by: They Might Be Giants

See if I Care

They say 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery'.  It might be true, unless you're Blobby.  Then it's the sincerest form of mockery.

....but mockery with a message.

A month is a millennium in a news cycle. Hell, news cycles don't last that long. So it's been over a month since Melanoma wore her now infamous $29 Not Caring Jacket®.

I will give the Dems this, they got right on it and offered the shirt I now wear, but it took four weeks to get it in my hands. A lifetime.

I'll say - it was questionable to wear it on vacation. This is North Carolina, after all. As I'm not in Charlotte or Ashville, I think I could be deep into BLOTUS country.  Wrightsville Beach has a surfer / redneck vibe going on here. I could easily be beaten and dumped in the ocean.

Still, it is important to send the message.

It cost me all of $20.18 (plus shipping).  I even threw in a $10 donation to the dems to do with it as they wish - though I'm 99% sure they won't use it wisely enough.

I no longer see the shirt on the Dem's on-line store.  Maybe it was a limited offer. Maybe they're out of stock.  Or maybe they don't really care. 

Time will tell.



Song by: Gary Allan

Sweet Little Duck

While on our way to yoga yesterday, my cousin and I came upon a lonely lonely woman working at Tuxedo Junction. Even the name sounds sad.

I think the clerk was thrilled to see us, though clearly we weren't there to rent or purchase. Prom season is still a few months away. So save for a few weddings, we were probably the only adults to enter that store in a while.

While you can't really see them, the vests behind me were in all the Miami Vice pastel colours.

I made the comment that it's 1985 again - and the clerk was quick to point out that everything is back in style, though I saw no ruffled tux shirts - circa 1974. Then she was quick to point out something new:  camo.  Really.

I made asked her to pull it out for us to see. And low and behold - Duck Dynasty® wear.  I'd ask, "can you believe it?", but I know you can. To be fair, I didn't ask how it was branded, but to be fair, I'm not sure I really wanted to know.

I did forget to ask what type of tux it went with - or maybe I was afraid to find out they had an entire camo tux. (pssst....I'll ask next Saturday.)

The super sad thing about it is, you know tons of boys will wear it to prom and more fuckheads will choose it as their wedding attire. Sure the bride will be on board - until she brings it up in the divorce proceedings four years later (assuming they aren't already brother and sister and live in the hills in a single-wide).

That Robertson family - aside (kind of) of homophobia, racism, and child trafficking/marriage - is everything that is wrong with America. The dumbing down of a nation for the almighty dollar. And so many are so willing to fill their back accounts. It's kind of sickening.

I'd rather give my money to Crocket and Tubbs.


Song by: Kathleen Edwards

When Black Friday Comes

It's been done 12,000 times by other bloggers, writers, news folk - but ugh on Black Friday.

It's not that I care so much about the sanctity of the holiday and not opening stores at 06:00 on Thanksgiving - or anytime during that day.  It is more the stupidity of the shoppers.

Personally, I don't care if these asshats get trampled to death. It's Natural Selection at work.

Proven time and time again that these are NOT the best deals of the season, nor is it the busiest shopping day of the year, I see no reason to sit out in the freezing cold (now no longer overnight but currently for 3-4 days ahead of time), to get one shitty off-brand TV. But you can't tell these uneducated, non-news reading, souls a thing....unless it's Sarah Palin telling them what and what not to do.

Yes, I'm generalizing.

And of course if you camp out in line, where do you go the bathroom.  That is the $64,000 question*.

If I never set a foot inside a store from November 15th - January 20th, I'm a happy man. There is very little that I cannot get on-line and the stuff I want to acquire for people most likely won't be found at the big box stores.

I feel worse for the Pizza Hut manager who got fired for bucking the system and closing on Thanksgiving - though allegedly that day has a high rate of pizza deliveries. Supposedly, Kentucky Taco Hut is rehiring him, but in a way I hope he does not accept.

In my mind, I already have the things I need to buy - some are already purchased, but that was a place / time rationale, not a "deal" to be had. Either way, it's going to be a light year, and that is just fine.

And now that stores are open at 06:00 on Thursday, can "they" even call it Black Friday?



*Rates apply to 1955-1958 rates of inflation



Song by: Steely Dan

Tracks of my Tears

Thanks to my cousin and Sean for both pointing me to Yaktracks.

After taking three tumbles in one dog walk, I knew I had to do something to try to avoid breaking a hip before I was eligible to join AARP.

Yaktracks are like the poor man's crampons.  No actual spikes, but a chain-like material that stretches over the bottom of your shoe or boot to make it more secure for walking on snow or ice.

So far so good.  I've remained vertical since acquiring them. But to be fair, I remained vertical since falling those three times.

On my inaugural walk, I was asked by two neighbors, both walking their animules, what I had on my feet - I told and showed them. I sent them the link once I got home and it looks like the company will get two more sales.

David is right - the "footprint" does look like a strand of DNA. The funny thing was, between the time of Sean and him suggesting these and to the time of buying, I saw mystery tracks in the snow while walking Petey and figured someone else in the 'hood had these.  I'm not a trailblazer.

Perhaps it is too early to give these my ringing endorsement, but I suppose I can assess over the next few weeks. I'll report back.



Song by: Linda Ronstadt

Shopping

Our meal on Friday night was not great. The food. The service.

We like to support local restaurants, but sometimes they just make it difficult. 710 likes this place for lunch, but somehow it did not transfer to the evening meal.  So yesterday, we went out to lunch. I figure I deserved a better meal - and it was.

Just tacos, but good ones. The Market Garden Brewery has good ones - and no, I did not drink, it was afternoon.  Please people, I'm not a drunk!

But next door was the West Side Market and we stopped by afterwards for some stuff - though ended up buying very little.

I'm at home this week (yayy!), which means not eating out while on the road, and it means cooking, which I enjoy. Anyhoo, I was hoping to try a new soup recipe and went to get some provisions for that. They probably had everything I needed, but it was so frickin' crowded and my patience was wearing thin. So I still need to pick up cheese and some chicken stock (no, I don't care what Ina Garten says, I'm not making my own!).

After that we walked over to a spice store to get some good dried mustard. Even the standard stuff in the grocery is pretty pricey, and this was much more reasonable and you have to figure it was fresher.

So if nothing else, you can expect at least one food blog post this week. It will be a test run for the next time we have folks over. I try never to serve anything new on guests.

That, I did learn from Ina.



Song by:  Duncan Shiek

The Suburbs

Sometimes there are just harsh realities one has to face: mortgage, jobs, wills and such.

While I am under no illusion that I'm some cutting edge kind of guy who lives this incredible life of leisure and spur of the moment events, but Sunday was an eye-opener.

Our friends and neighbors (Tom & Sal) are huge fans of Costco. We had a membership the first year they opened here, only because the first year's fees were free.  ....and you know I'm all about the cheap.

We went once. Once!

We are two men with no kids. Tom & Sal are too, but these guys go weekly.  Weekly!!!

Somehow, a few months ago they talked us into trying it again. We went, but didn't purchase a membership. We walked around and around and around. I suppose joining this kind of shopping establishment works if you have a family of six.

Marge Simpson came to mind as I wandered the aisles: "oooh, that's a good price for 12 pounds of nutmeg!"  

It ain't far from the truth.

When I overheard a man say to his family, "ok, everyone stop!  We lost grandma", I had to laugh.....and leave. I was done.

But we're family men now. And our son has special diet needs and food allergies. His food comes from - you got it - Costco.

As we got the comically oversized cart, 710 goes, "this looks so Pee-Wee-esque.".  True that!  ....and then we were off.

While waiting for 710 to get our membership cards, I'd say half a dozen folks left the store with these oversized teddy-bears.  And I mean, they were 5' tall. One person had THREE of them.  WTF.

Sure enough, when we went in, there was the display of them for the low low price of $30. This is a necessity?  People make and sell these in bulk?

As we looked around, again there wasn't much to buy if you weren't feeding the Von Trapp family. And it seems you have to use all the food in five days after you purchase it. Again, I suppose if you're feeding an army that isn't an issue. But for us, it means rebagging and freezing everything. Hardly worth it.

You can't buy one pork loin, it has to be two. You don't get a choice. Or the prepackaged cold cuts - like 7lbs of them. I don't want that much sliced turkey!

I'm thinking if I buy 4-5 bags of dog food a year, we'll break even on the membership fee. But other than that we just bought a gross of paper handkerchiefs, a bushel of granola bars and some of that CQ10 for my ear ringing problem (which isn't working).

Pushing that cart out the door made me feel like one of those housewives from the 'burbs. It was unsettling  Not only wasn't I feeling like a hip gay man (which I've never been), I felt that I was one Costco visit away from wearing mom jeans.



Song by:  Arcade Fire

Start a War

I love William-Sonoma.

Sure they have cool cooking stuff and some great knives and such. And yes, it's a good place to kill an hour to decide if you really need that Le Creuset cookware or not. It's almost always a 'no'.

But lo and behold, what have we here? Actual essential cookware items. Must haves, if you will.

I have been so excited, I couldn't even wait for next month's Shopping with Blobby segment. That is how awesome they are.

I don't even like pancakes (you know, because of the IPF), and yet, I am not sure how I have lived, or will ever live, without the Star Wars pancake molds. Pure genius.

Here they are out of the box - it was the display, I swear I didn't open them! - and sitting in a nice skillet that is great for cooking these Millennium Falcon and X-Wing fighter flapjacks.

And let's be honest - you cannot turn your pancakes over without these bad boys! I mean, literally, they were bad boys. Well, until the end of Episode VI, where Lord Vader goes from Sith to Pussy in a matter of minutes. That later Darth would probably flip the pancake before it burned on one side. Wuss.

Of course, if you don't like pancakes, you can always make sugar cookies. William-Sonomoa also sold silver sugar, which would have been wicked cool on the cookies.

I didn't write a letter to Santa this year, but I think one of his elves was in the store and may have seen me ooohing and aaaahing over this. One never knows.



Song by: the National

Cup of Kindness

For the hell of it, yesterday we went to Dean's Supply, which is basically a restaurant supply story - or a party supply place.

It's basically like the Barg'N-Mart where SpongeBob goes for all his spatula needs (he even has a little song about it).

I was slightly disappointed, but that's my own fault. I worked at enough of restaurants in my life where I should have known what I was gonna see. But I think deep down I was hoping we'd find something for whenever we entertain - which isn't a lot, but still........

I was underwhelmed. We left empty handed. And their spatula selection was unimpressive.

I did like how you didn't have to look up and down the aisles for your plate and plate size selection. This display was just fine.

Ditto with cups. Maybe even better than the plates. No.....no.....definitely better than the plates.

This is just a small sample of some of their non-fiesta Fiesta ware, and chafing dishes, and such.

It looks promising, but looks are deceiving. It would certainly get you through a nice picnic, but most of the stuff I'd want or need is more permanent stuff. This is great if you're a caterer though.

Still, I might need to come back here if we are to host my father's 90th. That is still up in the air, though we are approaching it quickly.


Song by: Emmylou Harris

The Emperor's New Clothes

Oh, how I hate to shop.

As my friend Jon pointed out via the comment section the other day, I don't know chintz from Chinoiserie and I can't tell the difference between a Champagne from a prosecco.

I don't like frou-frou food. I do like sports. And I loathe having to shop - especially for clothes.

I'm a gay man, not gay-acting. Yeah - you can all shut your pie-holes.

Yesterday, between yard work, exercise and well, lunch, we went and did some shopping for clothes. Mostly bum-around clothes.....or as I call them, non-work clothes.

But even buying jeans, socks and underwear, to me is just a painful event. Like museum fatigue, I get store fatigue, but faster and a more acute case. g-d help us all whenever I have to get suits and dress shoes!

It was just the casual wear where we dropped way too much money. I guess not really. We just do not update wardrobe that much. We're kind of lesbianic that way. But I was in need of jeans and sweats. Winter's a-comin'.

But oy, I hate trying on jeans - as you can see in the above picture. I didn't even keep my old pair on. btw.....I do have briefs on, so I'm not nekkid under that flannel and t shirt.

I did have this very brief supernova of seemingly good luck with the first pair of jeans I put on: a 32" waist that fit! The rest of the jeans were "loose fit" and I didn't like the overall look. But I can't tell you how long it's been since 32" even remotely fit me. Over a decade for sure.

I remember back during the 1980 Winter Olympics reading the Eric Heiden's thighs were 29" wide. My then-scrawny waist wasn't yet 29", let alone my thighs. Oh, how times change.

I tried a more "regular cut:, and well, I could get into the 32" version and they looked good, but you know it wouldn't take much for them to be a wee bit too tight (probably one cookie), so I went to 34", which are just fine.

Still - 34" isn't bad. For me. Lately. A few years back, I had made it up to 37" at one point. I did make it to back down to 35" last year, but most places do not stock odd sized waist sizes. So I'm now down a little further and wouldn't mind getting down to a comfortable 32".

Of course, many clothes manufacturers now fib about the size of their clothing to make folks, like me, feel better about themselves and their purchases. Hell, I might still be a 37" waist, but I'm not about to take out a tape measure to find out. Ignorance is bliss, so they say. Let me have my moment.

The bottom line is I got a pair of jeans, two pairs of sweats and some new underwear before I called the little outing to be over, no new shirts be damned. It was less painful for me to go cut the lawn and do the laundry.

Now I don't need to go back to a store until, like, April!



Song by: Sinéad O'Connor

Beat Surrender

Yeah, I could have used 'Beat It' for the post title, but I've never owned Micheal Jackson anything - except my Thriller wrist watch. ...and I only have that because I couldn't find a good Munedo one.

You can go back over the last line all you want - it is still gonna read the same. You read it correctly.

But even the watch (which I still have and it still works), wasn't licensed through Jackson. It was bought down on Canal Street in NYC for the whopping sum of $4 - a hefty price back in 1984. So I feel kind of ok owning it, as I never really put a dime into his pocket.

However, I have gotten a little off topic. SHOCK!

We were at Lowes yesterday to return some stuff. While Denton waited in that line, I just wandered. Yes, the Halloween decorations were out. They probably have been for weeks. We don't dress up the house that way. Hell, we haven't got one trick or treater in four years. This year I'm not even buying candy, which you know then will have the doorbell ringing like crazy.

While looking at the moving inflatable spiders, GateKeepers or maybe they were KeyMasters (no, I'm not kidding) and Frankenstein monsters that people actually put in their yard, this was actually the first thing that caught my eye:



I'm sorry, but it looks like Witchy-Poo is giving a reach-around.....to herself?? Apparently, she's got wood.

And even if she is offering to bruise the fruit, I'm not paying $148 for something I've been doing for no-charge to myself for the last 34 years.

Naturally, Denton found me over there and I axed him if he saw what I was seeing. He looked around and said, "yes - from every angle" .......which is what I already figured out and had already taken pictures of.

She uses her right hand. For the record, I'm a lefty.


Song by: the Jam

Lost in the Supermarket

One of the most underutilized things we do here in our fair city is frequent the West Side Market. Nary a Food Network show that ever comes to Cleveburgh does not mention, stop and film there.

But it's on the west side and we live on the east - which means almost nothing, but it is funny how the two really don't interact.

Our normal grocery stores have iffy produce at best. The West Side Market has great everything - which is why we need to frequent there more often and not utilize some of our chain stores as much. WSM doesn't have some of your staple things, like cereal and most condiments, and that's what we'd use your typical store for.

This place has operated in the same place since 1840, so they must be doing something right. It's also nice to have a bustling space of community. The place is always busy.

This is the back entrance. I should have gotten a shot of the front, but I didn't.

This is just the building for produce. Fruits and veggies, if you will.

These folks, are veggies. We got some romaine, peppers and corn. mmmmm. I didn't take a pic, but we also purchased grapes, strawberries, watermelon and bananas for some ridiculously low price. I'd say almost half what you'd pay for much worse quality elsewhere.

The other building if filled with meats (see above), poultry, cheeses, breads and desserts.

We did not purchase any desserts. While I love love love them, I'm afraid they are the reason for my lack of weight loss. They say to lose one pound per week, you have to cut 500 calories from your diet, per day. UGH. That is why I got bananas, strawberries, grapes and watermelon. We did purchase two rib-eye steaks though.

The later in the day you go, the more they start hacking amounts off the prices. SCORE!

The bread section is neat too. We didn't buy any but Denton put it nicely when he said some were like works of art. I'd almost hate to cut into this loaf.

So the goal is to shop at the West Side Market more often to pick up our good so we can prep meals for the week. It will be better quality, healthier and potentially cheaper. It does mean planning meals more than we do, but that's a small price. I hope.



Song by: the Clash