Category Archives: Retail

Summer Ephemerals

Posted on by

Late in the afternoon today, after a mostly sunny day, storm clouds rolled through, and for 15 minutes or so we had a heavy downpour. About 30 minutes later, the skies were clear.

Early this evening, I saw the flick of fireflies. Brief but luminous. Luminous but brief.

Another thing with a brief life: stands set up to capitalize on the Blackhawks’ victory. This one stood in Schiller Park, Ill., on Tuesday.

I have no intention of being among the madhouse crowds downtown tomorrow.  It’s enough that I got to see the Art Institute lions in headgear last time around.

April Mayhem

Posted on by

I got to know Boylston St. fairly well in 1995. I didn’t walk there every day, but often enough. Part of the street features rows of small, upper-end shops and these days, an Apple Store, though I don’t think it was there then. And I think I remember walking by the Boston Public Library and noticing that the marathon finish line is painted permanently in the street.

We didn’t watch the marathon on Patriots’ Day that year, which is the Massachusetts (and Maine) state holiday to commemorate Lexington & Concord. Rather, we watched a parade on Mass. Ave. in Arlington. Two days later, while at work downtown, I heard about the mayhem in Oklahoma City on the radio. This time of year seems to inspire losers with bombs.

I hear about today’s mayhem on the radio as I drove along today, between errands, in the company of Ann. The only memorable one of these errands was to the pet store we visited last week, to return a brush the dog didn’t like, and buy a tag that could be engraved with contact information in case she runs off. I’d imagined that we’d buy it, and then send it somewhere for engraving.

That was me, thinking old-fashioned thoughts. The store had a laser-based machine that only does one thing: engrave animal tags you’ve just bought, no extra charge. Simple to use, fascinating to watch.

Disraeli & Gladstone with a Spot of Jam

Posted on by

The product-package jokers who brought us Avocado’s Number Guacamole have created British muffins. Actually, that isn’t even a joke, just a cute name for English muffins offered at Trader Joe’s, of course. I bought a package the other day and confirmed that they’re exactly the same as what we North Americans call English muffins.

I wonder what ideas they rejected. UK muffins? Albion muffins? Anglia muffins? Or, pushing things back a little, (Anglo-)Saxon muffins? Considering that the ultimate owners of Trader Joe’s are shadowy German billionaires, maybe Perfidious Albion muffins.

Anyway, the name isn’t the really odd thing. The package also features images of Disraeli and Gladstone. It doesn’t claim any connection between the famed prime ministers and the product; they’re just there for decoration. I would have gone with Palmerston and Peel, just to be alliterative.

Maybe they figured that Disraeli and Gladstone were better known than any other 19th-century PMs, but are they really? How many American muffin buyers are going to recognize them? What gives, Trader Joe’s packaging whizzes?

The No Alarm Clock

Posted on by

Dear Sterling & Noble:

I’d had such hopes for the alarm clock of yours I bought a year or so ago to replace one I’d had for several years that had quit working. The older one – not one of yours – didn’t have a snooze button or a small light for the clock face, either. Your model did. Sure, it was cheap and made in China, but what isn’t? I was looking forward to fumbling for your clock in the middle of the night, hitting the light switch, and actually being able to see how long I have left before the work day calls me downstairs to do remunerative tasks.

And a snooze button! That’s a tool for living, because some of the best of life is found in the hazy in-between world of semi-consciousness after you wake up, but before you get up. Some of the oddest dreams, too. Or dream-like states. Without a snooze button, you have to re-set the alarm if you want to continue semi-consciousness but also wake up more-or-less on time, and even that simple mechanical act wakes you up just a little too much.

Anyway, I’m happy to say that the clock still keeps decent time. Also, the light works. But alas, the alarm isn’t working after only a year. The clock hasn’t been dropped (much) and the battery is fresh, so those aren’t the problems.

Actually, it sort of works. But it does a half-assed job of things, spitting and sputtering the noise out, as if it doesn’t really want to wake up, and then shutting down all together. Sorry, but an alarm needs to be robust, at least in my household. I’m a fairly light sleeper, but no one else around here is. Also, there’s the small matter of the alarm going off before it’s supposed to. Again, half-assedly, but at 30 minutes before wakeup time, no noise is good noise.

Since the clock is so cheap, I’ll simply buy another. That’s how things go sometimes. Still, I’ll take note of the clockmaker, and your brand now has at least one strike against it.

Sincerely,

Someone who would prefer life without alarm clocks, but knows the world demands early rising sometimes.

Noisemaker, Noisemaker, You Have No Complaint

Posted on by

Pauline Phillips was still alive? Maybe I was confused by the fact that Eppie Lederer’s been dead a while. I think both of them were in the San Antonio Express-News in the late ’70s, and I would have been hard-pressed to say who was who after I’d read the columns. That notion would probably have aggravated the sisters, and their editors, and in fact anyone who believes readers care about bylines, which they do not, but that’s source amnesia for you.

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have admitted reading Ann Landers and Dear Abby back in high school, but I did sometimes, and intermittently for years afterward. They were windows into worlds where people had problems I had no inkling of, back before people-with-weird-problems became a staple of 24-hour television.

Pictured: a recent moment of ordinary interaction between Ann and I, which for some reason I liked when I saw it. I didn’t know Lilly was taking the picture when she took it.

Speaking of things supposedly gone, I recently bought a box of chocolate cupcakes under The Snack Artist brand, which belongs to Safeway. They look and taste exactly like Hostess Cupcakes, down to the Jack Lew signature squiggle on top, except they’re a bit flatter. So I’ve done my little part to confirm that as far as consumers of insanely sweet snack cakes are concerned, not much was lost with the demise of Hostess. (Jobs were destroyed, of course, but that’s another matter.)

Back again on Tuesday, after MLK Day and the 57th Inauguration ceremony, which is different from the number of swearing-ins, since not all holders of the presidency began their terms on March 4 or January 20. This is the seventh time that the constitutionally specified inauguration day falls on a Sunday, with the public ceremony the held next day. James Monroe set that precedent in 1821 after checking with John Marshall, who signed off on the day’s delay.

The last time was on January 21, 1985, during an intense cold spell that affected much of the country. Heavy snow had fallen in Nashville, and I didn’t have to go to work. I didn’t have a TV at the time, so I listened to the event over the radio. It was so cold in DC that the swearing in was in the Capitol Rotunda.

Vain Bibble Babble

Posted on by

Back on a work schedule. Full schedule, that is, because work didn’t quite stop, even between Christmas and New Year’s Day. Yuriko’s back at work, too, even though her employer is Japanese and were this Japan, the New Year’s holiday would last through the third.

The Christmas tree still lingers, but oddly enough the dry tree-removal schedule this year has the tree out on the curb on the morning of January 7, so the last day of the tree being up coincides with Twelfth Night. Not that I’m particular about that, but Epiphany does seem like a good time to clear away the last of Christmas.

I saw the following on a sign at a grocery store today: Miss Your Twinkies? It was advertising a house-brand cream-filled sponge cake. Judging by the box, at least, they looked very much like the product of the defunct Hostess. But I decided I didn’t miss Twinkies all that much. And besides, they won’t be gone all that long.

South Loop Lights

Posted on by

I went to a real estate event in the South Loop yesterday, at a mixed-use property started in 2007 but delayed, as so many were — and still are — by the Panic of 2008. But there’s been some recovery since then. These days, the property’s in reasonably good shape, with its apartments leased and retail tenants committing for space.

It has a U-shaped layout, with the residential floors on either side of a drive that runs the length of property, and an upscale movie theater at the end of the U, which is open for business.

It’s one of those places that has a fancy bar upstairs from the lobby of the theater, which is where the event was held. I didn’t drink there, but the bar food was pretty good. Fine views of the city from that vantage. The room had interesting lighting, too, which allowed me to take pictures like this one of the small crowd.

Outside the theater, not far from the Seward Johnson statue, shines this array of lights.

Nice to see a spot that isn’t all decked out for Christmas yet. Unless this is Christmas décor that’s trying to smash the prevailing red-green-gold-silver paradigm.

Mariano’s Fresh Market

Posted on by

This year’s Thanksgiving meat: beef ribs. We discussed other choices, with the more standard fare rejected, though I wouldn’t have minded brining a turkey again. Obtaining the last of the items for the meal on Wednesday night meant visiting the new Mariano’s Fresh Market at Golf and Barrington roads, which has been open about a month. It’s the latest Chicago-area store by the chain, which is owned by Milwaukee-based Roundy’s Supermarkets.

I hadn’t been there before, but I’ll be back. It can’t quite replace Ultra Foods, since Mariano’s isn’t a discounter, but it’s a good combination of an ordinary grocery (around here, that means Jewel and Dominick’s) and an upmarket chain like Whole Foods, without Whole Foods prices. Or so I thought on first inspection. We’ll see if that holds up. Also, there are plenty of interesting brands I’ve never seen before, so the place merits further exploration.

Best purchase: a coconut cream pie for Thanksgiving dessert. Pretty much like the pies you can get at Bakers Square, but without the ordering in advance for a holiday, and at roughly the same cost. Best product that we didn’t buy: canned Spotted Dick, in the section selling British products. Enough to make me laugh, since I was once a 14-year-old boy, and he hasn’t completely gone away.

Hub-UK.com tells us that “Spotted Dick is a steamed suet pudding usually made with dried currants, hence the ‘spotted’ part of the name, which is traditionally served with custard. Why it is called ‘Spotted Dick’ is not exactly clear. There is a similar pudding called Spotted Dog which is made using plums rather than currants but it would seem unlikely that Dick is a corruption of dog.”

I wonder how I never saw Spotted Dick at the grocery store we used to patronize in Ealing years ago, where I did see Mr. Brain’s Pork Faggots.