Ann Ferro: Self help

Here I am at the grocery store again, for the third time this week. I keep forgetting one thing or another and wind up buying even more than I had intended. I miss Nojaims. I am in the section of the store where they have books and such displayed. I am passing quickly, knowing that most of the books on the shelves are calling my name, when out of my left eye I am captured by a title, so captured, that I back up my cart to see if what my mind has processed is the real title.
Is that book really entitled “How not to look Old?”
Geesh, who would buy a book like that? I mean, even if you wanted to know how not to look old, would you want others to know that you were reading such a book?
Closer inspection brought the subtitles to my eye: “How to be 10 pounds lighter,” “How to look 10 years younger” and “How to be 10 times better.” Better at what? But there I was reading the titles. My eyes wandered for just a moment and caught titles a bit further beyond this book that tell the reader “how to” in a number of arenas.
The one that made my teeth grind was entitled “How to Say it” for women. Ah, yes, the woman’s language thing again. And I thought learning a foreign language was tough; learning to not talk like a woman, translating into menspeak is even harder. There is no denying that there are male and female languages and I don’t mean languages found on some isolated island with an unpronounceable name. Don’t tell me that clean the kitchen doesn’t mean different things to men and women right here and now.
But just behind these helpful verbal assist books I could see racks of magazines with titles that were astonishingly narrow in focus, e.g. Pregnancy, Labor and Delivery, Episiotomy Today. The culinary section was of particular interest with titles that included two from Paula Deen, both of which relied heavily on mayonnaise and butter. There were eight that related to Italy, extolling the benefits of olive oil, fresh ingredients and wine. There were those with the high end titles, Saveur or Gourmet, which require ingredients not found in any grocery store within a hundred miles.
Right next to the magazines one could purchase your own copy of the PDR. For those who aren’t familiar with those initials, PDR refers to a reference book used by doctors, the Physicians Desk Reference. Reads like a Gothic novel where the reader self-diagnoses her or himself with most of the maladies listed on its pages. And most of these maladies are attributable to what the reader has eaten or read about in those magazines.
An arms-reach away were the racks of greeting cards. Used to be that greeting cards were sorted by birthday, anniversaries, religious occasions, condolences and holidays, get well, etc.
Today? Congratulations on the new litter of kittens by a feral cat in your garage, Congratulations on your divorce or losing the loser that your parents didn’t like … you know what I mean. There were condolence cards for the loss of a pet, which I totally think is appropriate. Condolences because of your recent automobile accident and a welcome back now that you are on parole. Congratulations on winning your lawsuit as well as those that celebrate leaving the job you hate. There were humorous cards and those deemed to be more serious. There were inexpensive cards and those that were shockingly overpriced. I mean $5.75 and then you have to put a stamp on the thing?
I soon stopped my peregrinations around this area and headed to the bread aisle where I hunted for the particular type of bread that I came in for. Lots of luck. Bread comes in many forms, in many grain and non-grain formulas, with additions and toppings and sizes and prices … just like the magazines, how-to books and greeting cards.
It was a long time ago, but I can remember my mother sending me to the store to get a loaf of bread. There were two kinds of bread. One came in a blue wrapper, the other in Red. We ate the one in the Red wrapper. Easy!