Sunday, December 26, 2010


We'd been living out here for about nine months when we hit the Christmas period.  It's funny how quickly we all adapted to Californian life - in many ways it was much easier, of course.  We lived in Marina Del Rey which is really a small village, with not too many residents, and lots of visitors on the weekends.  About a mile from our apartment was a wonderful supermarket, called Boys; it had the distinction of being named the supermarket with the most attractive women shoppers in America.

Well, on our first Christmas day, Boys posted a notice that they would be closed from 12 noon.  Normally they were open 24 hours, of course.  A feeling of panic descended on me.  Suppose we needed a jar of pig's feet, or ran out of toilet paper.  What the hell were we going to do?  We had become totally reliant on the pampering that California offered.

I was reminded of this the other day at our local market up here in Big Bear.  Normally they are closed between 2 and 6 a.m. so we've sort of disciplined ourselves to going without.  But the bomb was dropped.  They intended closing for the entire 24-hour period of Christmas day.  I reeled with the information.  As soon as I returned home, I checked our stock of pig's feet, and also toilet paper of course.  One never knows when a sudden attack of Montezuma's revenge might strike.  Well, I can report that we made it through the entire day.  But there was still a nagging feeling at the back of the mind.

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