Bean with Bacon

They say you can't go home again, and there's a great truth to that. But you can get a taste of the old homestead.

Campbell's Bean with Bacon soup. I hadn't had it in years. Of course, I haven't actually been looking. It had fell off my radar. Then I noticed a few cans of it in a Dollar General, and was so tickled that I bought four.

I've already ate two. Just like I used to do as a kid when Mom would serve it up for lunch, I made a big bowl and absolutely inundated it with saltines. That first taste sure brought back memories. It actually seemed as though I were sitting in the kitchen as a boy, Dad at the head of the table, back to the cabinets, Mom to his right, and all us siblings piled around wherever we'd fit.

I can't eat two bowls in one sitting as I could then. Well, I could, but it's not a good idea. It probably wasn't then, either. Yet, well, it tasted like home.

It Happened One Day

I remembered I was running low on coffee pods at the old barn when I happened to be at a Dollar General, which was fortuitous as they can be difficult to find. I happened to discover they sold coffee pods, so I happened to buy some. As they happened to be on sale, I happened to buy several boxes.

As it happened, one flavor I chose was 'donut shop blend'. But they didn't happen to say which donut shop. Yet as there happens to be this thing called the Internet where all of human knowledge appears to be kept in storage, most of it in very deep storage unless you happen to like cat videos or morally questionable entertainment, I decided to find out which donut shop blend Dollar General's happened to be.

It happens to be from Fred and Mary's donut shop and troll doll emporium in South Witchita, Kansas. Closed Mondays. You're welcome.

Tastes Great

Many of us, I believe anyway, have our moments when anger, disbelief, anxiety or other movement of the emotions hit us in such a way that we can't quite think straight. As a result, we may use language poorly, employing improper terms or the like.

Me son Charlie and I were in the Cedarville Dollar General Thursday evening when I was looking over the display of Old Spice deodorants. As I've decried before in these very spaces, I like regular, plain old Old Spice, not wolfbane and savage beast or whatever other varieties Old Spice offers these days. And as is typical there were none of the traditional aroma which I wanted. "I want plain Old Spice, not any of these weird flavors!" I said out loud in the store.

Turning to my son, who clearly heard my lament, he explained with a grin, "You just said flavors of Old Spice, Dad."

"Well, the original style tastes best." I harumphed indignantly. At that point, why not go ahead and run with it?

Why am I Not Surprised?

Yesterday I stepped into the local Dollar General (we all have one; they're everywhere) to buy some of the flavored, carbonated water I like. And what else did I find?

Halloween candy.

Let's see: it was July 28. Halloween is October 31, the last time I checked. So, it's just over three months off. 94 days away. And yet there's Halloween candy on the shelves.

Do I go on the rant about how it's still summer for about two months? Or the one about rampant consumerism? Or do I just sigh and let it go?

I'm going with the sigh. It just doesn't surprise me, although I wish it did.

Dollar For Dollar

I firmly believe that we ought to appreciate the little things in life. The older I get, the more the little things can seem, well, really little.

This past July as I spent a few days in Hessel in Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula with the Ohio Cosgriffs, we took a day trip all the way to DeTour Village. For da UP, it wasn't much of a trip: a mere 28 miles each way from Hessel. But there was a rummage sale at Sacred Heart Church, and we all know that small town rummage sales are well worth exploration. So off we went, me happily spending me daughter-in-law's gas on the journey.

I bought something at the sale with someone else's money (me son or me daughter-in-law one, I forget; such great kids!) and then we stopped at the brand new DeTour Dollar General. Throughout the walk through the store all I could think was, 'This is one great Dollar General'.

A little thing, but it made an impression on me. But have I gone too far the other way? Should something as mundane as a small town variety store mean so much? Or am I just getting old?

Surely not that last question.

Lemon Lime Risks

I am often accused of being unwilling to try new things. That is patently unfair. I'm more than willing enough to try new things.

Why, just yesterday while I was in Dollar General buying blood orange flavored carbonated water I took  a walk out on the edge. I loosened my wild side. Determining to try something different, I bought - you'll gasp at how bold of a choice this was - lemon lime flavored water. 

It tasted like lime with a twist of lemon. Or maybe lemon with a shot of lime juice, I'm not sure. 

I also went ahead and bought two bottles of blood orange, just to make sure I had something I like. No reason to throw all caution to the wind now, is there?

Regular old Old Spice

They say choice is a good thing. Perhaps. But it strikes me that choice isn't necessary if you know what you want.

I like Old Spice deodorant. Just regular old, plain old, Old Spice. Simple as that. So while in a store yesterday I decided to buy a stick of Old Spice. Regular old Old Spice.

They had High Endurance. They had extra sweat protection. There was pure sport. They had dragonblast and wolfthorn. What in the blazes is a wolfthorn? Why would I care about blasting dragons? I want regular Old Spice. That's all.

They had something labelled Swagger. I'm 61. I haven't had swagger since I was 47 and I'm not sure I actually had it then. I just want Old Spice. Regular Old Spice, the one that's been around for decades. 

It was not to be found. I'm sure I can order it online, but it seems that I should be able to get it easily at places such as the Dollar General I was in. And damn all the choices anyway. They don't mean nothing when they ain't what ya want.

Another story

Mom always carries granola bars with her. One of the medications she's on gives her food cravings, and she likes granola bars. In fact she's actually gotten such a taste for them that me brother Phil buys them by the crate at warehouse stores. Very often the staff have to get a hi-lo and bring them out to his van on a pallet. But that's another story.

As Mom and I enjoyed our usual Sunday drive yesterday, I pulled into a Dollar General because I wanted to buy this blood orange flavored carbonated water they have, which is sooooo goooood. I'd never even heard of blood orange until I one day bought a bottle of this stuff at another Dollar General on a lark. Apparently there are oranges with a red pulp, hence 'blood' oranges, with a bit of a raspberry taste along with the expected orange dominant flavor. But that's another story.

When I had finished parking, Mom took about three granola bars out of her vest pocket and put them in the console between us. "I don't want to take these into the store," she explained, "Because they might think I stole them and it would set off the alarms and make all that noise."

"And I wouldn't bail you out of jail," I teased.

"I know that," she replied in mock disgust. "That's why I'm leaving them here."

And that's today's story.

Shrimp ramen

Shrimp ramen. Yep, that's what I'm going to have for lunch today. Shrimp ramen.

I was in a Dollar General yesterday (you've heard of Dollar General, haven't you?) and they had scads of shrimp ramen for sale. So I bought some. And I am going to have shrimp ramen for lunch today.

Yep. Shrimp ramen.

From Dollar General.

For lunch. 

Today.

I should have bought more than the three that I did. I'm planning a big lunch.

Dash it all

As I stood in line at the Dollar General - yes, I mock them but they do have great prices - it dawned on me what I was buying. Not that I didn't know what I had, but that it occurred to me that there was something odd or incongruent about it. You see, I was buying mouthwash - a potty mouth like mine needs it - and snack cakes.

Of course, maybe that's not so out of line. One purchase was to get a hefty dose of sugar, the other to remove the sugar from my teeth, thus avoiding dental problems.

So maybe - just maybe - it wasn't so odd. And maybe - just maybe - I want an excuse to overemploy  dashes this morning.

It just figures

A few days ago while on the road I decided I wanted to buy a certain type of carbonated water. I wanted blood orange flavor. I didn't even know there were such things as blood oranges, oranges with reddish pulp and a raspberry-ish taste, until I stumbled upon this water. It is available through Dollar General on their house brand.

Dollar General stores are everywhere, right? Every wide spot in the road has a DG. Hell, there's even some places where they are the wide spot in the road: no town, no houses, no other buildings, just a Dollar General sitting alone almost as though randomly set down. Anyone own that piece of land? No? Then buy it and put up a DG; what are you waiting for?

My taste for blood orange grew with every turn of the highway, every glimpse of rural town, every mileage marker for the next city of any import. And no Dollar General anywhere. What the heck?

Maybe they hide are readily as they appear, eh?

Vanity on the road

What you see when your job involves a lot of driving...

In a small Indiana town yesterday I passed the Vanity Beauty Salon. While I suppose there is a certain justification for such a name I'm not sure I would have chosen it. How does one take that? Are they appealing to the Veronica Lodges of the world? Betty Cooper, just walk on by, maybe? Whatever.

Within a few minutes more I saw a sign for Franciscan Fireworks. For those who may not be familiar with Catholicism, Franciscans are an order of priests. The sign was adorned with a priest gazing peacefully towards Heaven. The store itself, which appeared on the roadside in the next five miles, had a picture of a Franciscan complete in his brown monk's robe holding two lit firecrackers, one in each hand, and looking quite content about it. This was before they went off of course.

Lastly, it seemed that every wide spot in the road I drove through had a Dollar General. I can just imagine corporate board meetings at Dollar General World Headquarters: "Hey, Townville has 8, maybe 10 people. Put up a store!" I think it's overkill but hey, rural folk like their Dollar Generals I guess.

What you see on the road...