Showing posts with label Lost in the Supermarket. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lost in the Supermarket. Show all posts

Monday, December 5, 2016

Lost in the Supermarket

I’m all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily

~~ “Lost in the Supermarket” by the Clash

I spotted this at the grocery store today and of course, I had to have it. While I’m looking forward to reading it and I’m sure the articles will be excellent, I think there is an element of wanting to hold on to him and never let him go. I find myself feeling increasingly bereft as his time in office nears its close. There is also a sense of impending doom as the next administration nears, and I know I’m not alone in that feeling.

I feel fortunate to have lived during the eight years of Obama’s presidency. We have had our ups and downs but there is no denying (at least among the rational) that he is a good, decent, extremely intelligent man who has the best interests of the country at heart. So buying this special issue was my little way of falling to the ground, grabbing him around the knees and wailing, “NO! Please don’t go! Don’t leave me this way!”

::sigh::

But since it looks like he’s not going to declare martial law in order to set himself up in the Oval Office for life, I know he has to say goodbye.

It seems that I’m not the only one who is experiencing this feeling of loss. At the checkout line, the clerk rang it up and slid it to the end of the lane for the bagboy to put into a bag. As she did it, she glanced at it and read the headline: “The Obama Years.” The bagboy looked sad and said, “I’m going to miss him.”

The clerk said, “Me, too.”

Naturally, I chimed in with, “Me, too!”

Here is where it gets really interesting. The clerk, who is an older lady I see there often (I won’t mention her name for privacy reasons), seems to be close to retirement age. She is sometimes a little gruff, but mostly just all business. She seemed in a good mood today and was quite a bit more talkative than usual. She said to me, “I fear for my life now,” and flashed me a little smile that didn’t seem to quite reach her eyes. The bagboy, a youngster who could possibly have been of Hispanic heritage, murmured, “Yeah,” and I said, “I think a lot of us are concerned.”

The bagboy put the magazine into a bag and said, “He’s been great.”

The clerk wasn’t done. She said, “Like my daughter says, grab your picture ID and run for your life!”

At that point, we all did chuckle a little bit, but I would describe it as “rueful chuckling.” As in, “We have to kind of laugh about this, right? Even though we are scared and sickened by what is happening?”

I found this encounter intriguing on several levels and it has stuck with me all day.

First, not everyone in the Midwest is onboard the Yam Express to Hell. There are plenty of us right here in Indiana who are unhappy about this.

Second, it goes beyond just being unhappy. I’ve been unhappy with election outcomes before. We are now in the Fear Zone. Here were three disparate people: an older woman close to retirement, a young man of uncertain ethnic origin (I don’t mean that in a bad way...I just have no idea what his ethnicity was, but I could tell he wasn’t total whitebread like me) who is just starting his life’s journey, and middle-aged me who worries about erosions of civil liberties and about setbacks in all the progress that has been made in the last several decades.

Three very different circumstances, but a common sentiment: we are all afraid.

Afraid of what is going to happen to retirement funds and Medicare; afraid of what is going to happen to our gay friends and family; afraid of what is going to happen to women’s reproductive rights; afraid of what kind of life is going to be waiting for any young person when they get out of college—if they can even afford to go to college. We were all feeling afraid enough that we actually talked about this a bit in a place of business. I think we all are trying to find comfort where we can, and perhaps my purchase of this magazine reassured the clerk and the bagboy that there are people out there who are feeling the same way. I hope so. I hope that gave them a little boost today. Hearing their words sure gave me one!

It also made me feel angry. Because we shouldn’t have to feel afraid of the leader of our government and what he is going to do to our country and to the world. None of us. I’m not going to say that it’s unfair, because I know that life isn’t fair. I think it’s reasonable to say that it is unjust, though. It is unjust that a significant portion of our population is now living in fear. I remember being afraid of nuclear war a few decades ago. I feel that same pall over my life now and it seems that my compadres at the supermarket are feeling it, too.

Finally, it makes me think that the coalition is still there. The Democrats just need to figure out how to bring us all together so that we can work on progress for all, not just a select few.

I just hope that by the time they figure it out, it’s not too late.

This song is going out to the current Commander-In-Chief. You may not be in the Oval Office soon, sir, but you’ll always command my heart...and my respect.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Lost in the Supermarket

London Calling I've been having some unpleasant dreams lately, most of which I believe are about anxiety. Some have been downright terrifying, but most are just general, free-form weirdness with an underlying feeling of dread.

The other night was particularly bad. Things began innocently enough, with talking to my friend Aubrey (we recently had lunch, so that's where that came from), and nothing seemed amiss. Then I was talking to my friend Greg, also from the lab. Nothing weird about the conversation, which took place in the lab, but he was wearing shorts and a tank top, and that's when things started going wrong. You don't wear shorts and a tank top in the lab. It was a jarring enough inconsistency that in my dream, I sat on the floor with my legs splayed out, hung my head, and said, "This has to be a dream."

It morphed into the setting of a house I didn't know. My Mom was there, and we were sleeping in the same bed. She asked me, "Do you want to say that prayer now?" I said, "No," and she said, "Okay," rolled over and went to sleep. I was making a cat toy of feathers and tossing it up into the air, although I don't recall a cat being there. There was a woman in the house, and she was wearing an evening gown. She stood out on the balcony with the sliding glass door open, and I said, "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to close that door. It's very cold in here." She smiled and did so.

It all sounds innocent enough as I type it, but I can't begin to convey the feeling of dread, dismay, and wrongness that overlaid everything. There were several times that I thought as I did early on: "I know I'm dreaming," but it all felt so vivid and completely real that I was sure it was happening. So you can imagine my terror when my dream culminated with me lying in bed, opening my eyes, and seeing someone or something leaning over me with bared teeth and dead eyes, snarling and ready to chew my face off. As is often the case in dreams, I was paralyzed with fear, and could only moan, "Noooooo oh god nooooooo," which finally, thankfully, woke me up for real. There was a moment of heart-pounding panic, as I tried to figure out where I was, and whether or not I was awake or still dreaming. Whew.

Dream anxiety I had another one tonight when I napped on the loveseat, but at least this one wasn't as terrifying. I was at the grocery store, and I recall being horribly unfocused and unable to complete my task. I was trying to find a 12-pack of Diet Dr. Pepper, and I could only find cases. At one point, I had a case of 7-Up in my hand, and sat it down with disgust, as in, "That's not what I want! Why am I carrying this around?" I can laugh about it now, because it sounds silly, but in my dream, I was walking endlessly back and forth in the aisle, trying to find that goddamn 12-pack of Diet Dr. Pepper. I recall wondering if they were seeing me on the security cameras and wondering what was wrong with me. I felt incapable, stupid, and incompetent. For me, that IS a nightmare! I eventually ran into my friend Jay (also from the lab), and he gave me a big hug, so that was nice. That one had a decent ending rather than the terrifying one earlier in the week.

I know it's all a reflection of the generalized anxiety I'm feeling about things in general, and I'll just ride it out as my psyche dumps all the detritus into my dreams. I can handle the vaguely unpleasant, but that one the other night is lingering. I find dreams fascinating, and I'm wondering if writing such things down will help me wrest a little control over them? Usually my dreams are fairly pleasant, if nonsensical, easily forgotten. If I continue to have these anxiety dreams, I think writing them down might help me get a handle on them.

The supermarket dream tonight had an unexpected and happy benefit, as it reminded me of one of my favorite Clash songs, "Lost in the Supermarket." Although known for their anger and outrage at the inequities of the haves vs. the have-nots, this song is almost wistful in its search for meaning in the banality of life, our society's promise of happiness through consumerism, and our increasing isolation. If you think I'm reading too much into the song, go right ahead. Songs speak to people in different ways, and this song speaks to me.

I'm all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for the special offer
A guaranteed personality

I wasn't born so much as I fell out
Nobody seemed to notice me
We had a hedge back home in the suburbs
Over which I never could see

I heard the people who lived on the ceiling
Scream and fight most scarily
Hearing that noise was my first ever feeling
That's how it's been all around me

I'm all tuned in I see all the programmes
I save coupons from packets of tea
I've got my giants hit discotheque album
I empty a bottle I feel a bit free

Kids in the halls and the pipes in the walls
Making noises for company
Long distance callers make long distance calls
And the silence makes me lonely

I'm all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for the special offer
A guaranteed personality

It's not here, it disappeared.