Coming out of Roche Bros, a Westwood la-de-da supermarket where they have baggers who will take your loaded cart to the car, load it in and return the cart for you, I saw a Trump bumper sticker. And I wondered who in their right mind would be voting for that guy, let alone announcing their political point of view to the world. Then I thought about the location and where entitlement exists unchallenged. This is an old money supermarket. There are a lot of Volvo’s here. We like the way things have always been because we have always been in charge and we like it that way. We will vote Trump because he would get the job done and you can’t have an angry woman in the oval office.
I like to go to Star market because the folks that go there, people who shop and work there, come from all sorts of different places and cultures. We are all there just doing our weekly shopping or working our shifts. I feel like when I buy an avocado from South America there will be someone who is from there either putting it on the shelf or in their shopping basket. Same with the local cod. Someone has a fisherman in their family. The woman who serves up slices from the deli on the Sunday shift as her second job also massages me on Monday and then takes off right after work to pick up her kid from sports practice. For the most part high school kids ring you out and you bag and haul your own groceries. Star Market is also closer to home. We are just trying to live life, get all the errands done and get back home in time to help the kids do their homework, get supper on the table and we drive all sorts of different types of cars. Some are beaters and some are brand new, but most of them are practical and with some sort of Boston Sports sticker on the bumper and on the back windshield.
Now I could go across and up the street a bit and hit Wholefoods, which is a whole different world. Nestled right at Legacy place, the high-end shopping mall in town, I feel like I have to put on my yoga pants and carry trendy canvas bags to into the store. I would also have to take out a mortgage to shop there, the fruits and veggies look pretty perfect but the prices are often double of what they are at Star. The other thing is that I notice that customers strike a certain pose of celebrity hiding from the press with their baseball caps and bug eyed sunglasses and the staff (vs. regular employees) are not very friendly. It is like I am at the wrong club and everybody in the store knows it. This is a nouveau riche market, a poser wanna be nouveau riche market, where going green is not really understood, but it is a trend so therefore watch me shop organic with my Gucci bag. There are Teslas and Mercedes SUVs and Lincoln Navigators and if there is a bumper sticker, it is an ACK . Too self-absorbed to even vote and if they did, it would be for whoever is most popular in the Wall Street Journal’s Weekend editorial. Not that they actually read the editorial, but that they can spot the name on the headline from across the shopping isle.
Now I am being a bit cheeky with my descriptions of the various markets around town. My sharpness is showing in that I am making generalizations about the people that shop at different stores and that somehow the store I choose, and the the people that go there are, better than the others. I am challanging the elite while being elite in my own thinking.
I think that human nature tends to have us group in like styled tribes, we stick together with those that are most like us because it makes us feel like we belong. I belong in a group of mixed marbles, some broken and cracked, some perfect pinkies or yellowed Tiger eyes. Most of the marbles are scratched up a bit. But, I grew up going to the market with my mum who still goes to Roach Bros. in her Volvo wagon * I traveled up to Roche Bros. the other day because they have loose leaf tea and Star only has bagged tea. Very elite of me.
However, I thought about why I now go to a different market and I think it because I have learned that I feel better in my group of mixed marbles then in the tribe I grew up in.
Where do you go to market? Do you pick the place due to style or location? Do you feel apart of when you go or out of your element? Funny how something so simple as a market can be a statement of who we see ourselves to be.
*Mum is not voting for Trump. She vigorously defended her market choice and has said in the past that it was easier to get to when she was teaching in Westwood, she knew many of the students that bagged groceries there and she is a creature of habit. Why change now?