Tuesday, August 12, 2025

Pushed B-52(s) and Bombed Them with the Blues

I took a shortcut the other day shopping for Triscuits in my grocery store. I would assume that big stores have aisles reserved just for specific products, in my case, CheeriosCheez-Its, and seedless grapes. 

However, then I remember that I live in a small town and we can't always have all the amenities we want. Some settling and sharing of contents may occur in shipment, and there's not a whole lot any of us can do about it.

By taking the shortcut, I ended up confronting the lobsters in the seafood department. I guess I should tell you that the Gorton's Fisherman needn't brave the dark and rolling sea on my behalf. I eat fish sticks and just about nothing else. 

And if I were to be honest, what I actually eat are tightly compacted bread crumbs that may or may not have fish in/near/close to them. One of the 'great things' people always told me as I was preparing to relocate to The Land of Round Doorknobs was how I could now have all the seafood I liked. I never had the heart to tell them I had all the seafood I liked by the time I was five.

Living in Southeastern Connecticut, where the farther north you head up the coast until you're Down East, the wider the A gets in lobstah, I cannot eat them and have trouble even looking at 'em. I'm a card-carrying carnivore, a fan of pork, chicken, lamb, and beef, whose motto is 'have napkin, will travel.' Fish, shellfish, crustaceans (nattily-attired and otherwise) not so much.

If you and I were to be marooned on a desert island, you should kill me immediately, since I can tell you right now, I'd eat you right after you'd fattened yourself up on all the fish you'd caught. Doubt me? Doze at your peril.


Staring at the lobsters in the glass tank (why do they have to be kept like that? This is somehow more humane than a box with metal sides? ) I was almost going to type forlorn looking but I have no idea what part of the lobster is the face, though I think I know what the mouth is (but NOT why it looks like they're talking all the time) and I've no clue what a forlorn one would look like in comparison to a joyous one. 

I suspect the easiest way to tell them apart is a joyous one doesn't have giant rubber bands around the pincers (claws?) because it's on the floor of the ocean instead of in a glass tank in a supermarket.

I wanted to ask the guy behind the counter if the store feeds the lobsters before people buy them (and if so, what? Soylent Green?), but they were selling so quickly the question was moot. It's strange watching them stacked atop one another, not really grasping the deal with the rubber band and still trying to get at each other in such a confined space. 

If they're capable of thought, are they thinking, 'this is the crappiest day of my life!' Until the hand (and arm) of Fate surprises them and they are momentarily borne aloft and suddenly learn there are worse things in life than being in a glass tank. 

I ducked into the next aisle, Prepared Food, when I realized that for all other carnivorous predators on this planet, we are unprepared food. Yes, Virginia, there is a free lunch. We're eating it now. Praise the Lord and pass the cocktail sauce.
-bill kenny      

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Pushed B-52(s) and Bombed Them with the Blues

I took a shortcut the other day shopping for  Triscuits  in my grocery store. I would assume  that big stores have aisles reserved just for ...