Need more coffee, but I’ll post anyway.
This blogging everyday thing is hard. Not because I can’t think of what to write but because there’s so much I could.
Yesterday at the grocery store, I tried to find pine nuts. In case you’re also going to make Tyler’s Ultimate pork chops with wild rice pilaf, let me help you out: The pine nuts are over by the bagged salads, cut fruit and bean sprouts. You may already know this but if you do, I’d say you’re in the minority. It took no less than 4 store employees to find them. (We couldn’t find pilaf anywhere!)
But while I was out shopping for our biweekly sustenance, look what I found:
That’s right. Pink garden tools at my local grocery retailer. I didn’t buy any though. Even though they had tags sporting the National Breast Cancer Foundation, Inc. name, let’s just say I would want them tested for lead before I bring them home for my gardening buddy and I to use. (Now that I think of it, I didn’t check for any labels saying they were tested, so maybe they were.)
Before I got to the pink shovel department and after passing through the scrapbooking/crafts department (conveniently located near the meat counter, because there’s nothing better than plopping a thick juicy steak down into the cart next to a package of cute vacation-themed die-cut stickers) I saw the Hannah Montana toys.
I was wistful. There would be no purchasing of Hannah Montana stuff on that trip. Not because I’m boycotting. It’s because to my daughter, Hannah Montana is not what she used to be. The luster has worn off. I didn’t even know that my daughter knew about the recent fiasco, and I didn’t mention it because how do you explain to a 7-year old what’s wrong with that picture? But my first clue was when she didn’t want to wear her Hannah Montana pajamas to pajama day at school. She said it was because she didn’t want them to get dirty. My second clue was when I came out and asked her. She told me the other kids had been talking. And then my third clue was when her brand new Hannah Montana backpack was replaced one day by the old battered Barbie backpack.
Sigh. Just seeing Miley’s smiling face on that familiar purple packaging, and feeling a bit sorry for all the teenagers whose lives (and mistakes) are on display for the rest of the world to see, prompted me to stop right there in the store and jot down a letter in the little notebook I carry:
Dear Hannah Montana,
It’s not you. It’s us. I won’t harsh on you - you’ve had enough criticism. I feel bad for you, really. I wondered when it was going to happen, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and now it has.
We memorized the lyrics of “Best of Both Worlds” and sang along, hopping and dancing around the living room with our hairbrushes and later, I would use it as a teachable moment: “Honey,” I would say. “You don’t really want to be a pop star. They have very hard lives. They get as much criticism as they get praise, and I just don’t want that for you. To Daddy and to me, you ARE a star.”
She now sees the lesson unfolding before her. I’m not making a big deal of it. You provided us with several good years of nearly mindless gift shopping: if it had your face on it, drop it in the cart; she’ll like it. But now, it seems, we’re moving on.
Who knows if or when the tide will turn? But until it does, my daughter is embarassed to be seen with you in public. I’m so sorry.
A former devoted fan.
So that was my break up letter to Hannah Montana. And since I was writing anyway (amazingly, no one seemed to notice or care), I thought again of the pink shovels that I also wasn’t buying. The irony of possibly purchasing a product that might contain brain-damaging lead but would help fund the early detection of cancer prompted me to stop right there and jot down another letter.
Dear China,
It’s not me. It’s you. I would gladly buy your low-priced products if I knew for sure you weren’t putting lead-based paint on them, because I am a notorious tightwad and I love a bargain. So please, China, if you’re listening, quit it.
Sincerely,
A former devoted bargain shopper
So no pink shovels, no purple packaged toys… what’s the world coming to?
But at least the pine nuts seem relatively safe and controversy-free. On the other hand, they’re aren’t labelled organic.
Somehow, even with all the things I didn’t buy, I still managed to spend $187 on groceries. And bottled water? I admit it. I caved. I kinda sorta looked to see if the plastic bottles contained bad chemicals, but couldn’t find anything on the packaging (which is probably a bad sign). But I had a coupon. And frankly, I was tired. So I hoisted them into the cart.
I’ll pray over the water and vow next time to buy the ones in vegetable-based, eco-friendly gallon containers. A person can only handle so much “responsible” shopping in one day.