The shoplifting suspect was an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair. I didn't notice him at first until I saw him throw a decorated Christmas wreath into his shopping cart.
His action seemed so unusual of one picking out a Christmas wreath that I took a more deliberate look at him. His demeanor was anything reflective of the holiday joy and his sour expression was further accented by the fact that his wreath was haphazzardly thrown in the shopping cart on top of his groceries. His BAGGED groceries.
It suddenly dawned on me what was going on.
"Excuse me, sir," I began without really thinking through the possible ramifications of what I was about to do. "Did you pay for that wreath?"
The man glared at me and walked off. Although no words were offered from him as either affirmation or denial of his action, his stoney silence and rapid walk was enough for me to put two and two together.
"Did you take that wreath without paying for it?! Mister, did you steal that wreath?!" I yell at his backside as he ignored my questions. Somehow I just had a hard time letting it go.
What surprised me was that there were lots of other people around me. What this man did was an overt--not secretive--attempt to take something without paying for it. It was almost as if he was challenging someone--anyone--to call him on it. And I did.
But no one else even raised an eyebrow. Not even after I bombarded the man with accusational questions. They didn't even look at ME funny. They just went on their own business as if neither he nor I existed.
I don't know if that man was ever caught but I believe I did right by reporting it to an employee of the supermarket (albeit, it was a young teen who was retreiving shopping carts from the parking lot).
I'm trying to figure out if I'm more apalled by the brazen burglary of a Christmas wreath or the shameless apathy of those around me.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Wednesday, December 6, 2006
What Is the Meaning of All This?!
I've been so wrapped up with this holiday season (pun not intended, although quite apropos) that I've been feeding my family out of the freezer--literally. Frozen veggies, potstickers, chicken nuggets - anything that Costco sells in the freezer department that can be warmed/cooked in the microwave has been the staple of our dinners. And I'm not proud of it.
This year instead of the usual 10-12 dozen cookies I bake for school teachers, bus drivers, neighbors, and friends, I've decided to go "low-key" and try my hand at making creative soap bars. I've even tried to have the kids help out by making colors and mixing the melted glycerin. Ha - I should have known better. I'm a perfectionist and somehow preschoolers mixing colors into pleasant soap hues isn't exactly a realistic expectation.
Oh - and there's the Christmas cards. Photocards with handmade paper inserts for a personal handwritten message. Complete with stickers ("artistically" displayed by the aforementioned preschoolers) colored (or smudged) by Crayola. What was I thinking?! This quick-project-done-in-front-of-the-TV became two nights of intense labor.
Yes, the kids do know it's Jesus' birthday. They know about Santa. And they thoroughly enjoy seeing all the colorful lights out at night. But really, what is the meaning of all this craziness to which we all somehow allow ourselves to succomb? How do my soap, hand-made Christmas notes, freezer dinners, late-night online shopping "excursions" all relate to this season?
I know and yet I don't know.
I've been encouraged by my dear friend Laurie to take these little snowmen books and write a kids' story for my children. Something that will bring meaning of this season down to their level of understanding. Perhaps I can salvage what's left of this month and make it significant and important and not chaotic and trivial.
Well, here's to making the most of this Christmas. I've given up on the salon-quality soaps (although I have a few more "definitely-one-of-a-kind" soaps to make) and who cares if the handmade cards totally look slapped together. I have something more essential to do.
I going to write the story of Christmas for my kids . . . and for me.
This year instead of the usual 10-12 dozen cookies I bake for school teachers, bus drivers, neighbors, and friends, I've decided to go "low-key" and try my hand at making creative soap bars. I've even tried to have the kids help out by making colors and mixing the melted glycerin. Ha - I should have known better. I'm a perfectionist and somehow preschoolers mixing colors into pleasant soap hues isn't exactly a realistic expectation.
Oh - and there's the Christmas cards. Photocards with handmade paper inserts for a personal handwritten message. Complete with stickers ("artistically" displayed by the aforementioned preschoolers) colored (or smudged) by Crayola. What was I thinking?! This quick-project-done-in-front-of-the-TV became two nights of intense labor.
Yes, the kids do know it's Jesus' birthday. They know about Santa. And they thoroughly enjoy seeing all the colorful lights out at night. But really, what is the meaning of all this craziness to which we all somehow allow ourselves to succomb? How do my soap, hand-made Christmas notes, freezer dinners, late-night online shopping "excursions" all relate to this season?
I know and yet I don't know.
I've been encouraged by my dear friend Laurie to take these little snowmen books and write a kids' story for my children. Something that will bring meaning of this season down to their level of understanding. Perhaps I can salvage what's left of this month and make it significant and important and not chaotic and trivial.
Well, here's to making the most of this Christmas. I've given up on the salon-quality soaps (although I have a few more "definitely-one-of-a-kind" soaps to make) and who cares if the handmade cards totally look slapped together. I have something more essential to do.
I going to write the story of Christmas for my kids . . . and for me.
Friday, December 1, 2006
The Jacket Saga Has Ended
One of the many items that I currently own but will "ditch" (sell, give away, donate, toss, lose, etc.) before the westward migration will be my thick royal blue Columbia jacket. I've had this jacket for seven or eight years. The jacket looks great, and despite the age on the jacket, it looks hardly used. Columbia makes some good stuff - or at least it made me a durable jacket.
This jacket, which slightly resembles "Cookie Monster blue," has kept me warm and toasty in the long and frigid New Englanders. I don't know how many blizzards the jacket has kept me warm while I shoveled snow and cleared off my car. It had even protected me as I slid down ski slopes slightly bruised and definitely ungracefully on my arse.
. . . but I hear that the winters in LA aren't that frigid and I'm not even sure if the temperatures dip low enough to warrant a New Englander to even break out the fleece (well, maybe a fleece vest). Who knows - I've yet to learn about those rainy winters.
Anyway, I figured I would try to sell my jacket and use whatever I manage to get for it toward the purchase of a new (or used) jacket that will get me through one more winter yet will be versatile enough so that I can wear during the mild winter temps in SoCal. Bye bye thick polyfilled jacket--hello, three-in-one jacket systems.
To make a long story short (or "a long story longer" as my sister always says I managed to do when narrating an event), I tried Craigslist (interested parties who never showed up) and eBay. I had taken numerous photos (one would think I was selling a house--which I will, later on) and carefully washed, dried and packaged it so it would be ready to ship.
Two eBay postings later, my auction ended with no bids. I feel guilty buying a new jacket while I still have my old (but faithful and immacuate) blue jacket. Guess what I'll be wearing while I'm shoveling out from under this season's first snow storm?
You guessed it. I'll be dressed in Cookie Monster blue.
This jacket, which slightly resembles "Cookie Monster blue," has kept me warm and toasty in the long and frigid New Englanders. I don't know how many blizzards the jacket has kept me warm while I shoveled snow and cleared off my car. It had even protected me as I slid down ski slopes slightly bruised and definitely ungracefully on my arse.
. . . but I hear that the winters in LA aren't that frigid and I'm not even sure if the temperatures dip low enough to warrant a New Englander to even break out the fleece (well, maybe a fleece vest). Who knows - I've yet to learn about those rainy winters.
Anyway, I figured I would try to sell my jacket and use whatever I manage to get for it toward the purchase of a new (or used) jacket that will get me through one more winter yet will be versatile enough so that I can wear during the mild winter temps in SoCal. Bye bye thick polyfilled jacket--hello, three-in-one jacket systems.
To make a long story short (or "a long story longer" as my sister always says I managed to do when narrating an event), I tried Craigslist (interested parties who never showed up) and eBay. I had taken numerous photos (one would think I was selling a house--which I will, later on) and carefully washed, dried and packaged it so it would be ready to ship.
Two eBay postings later, my auction ended with no bids. I feel guilty buying a new jacket while I still have my old (but faithful and immacuate) blue jacket. Guess what I'll be wearing while I'm shoveling out from under this season's first snow storm?
You guessed it. I'll be dressed in Cookie Monster blue.
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