A Liar's Life

Discerning the Authentic

by Toby Meuli

Several weeks ago I went shopping at an all-organic grocery store in an affluent part of Los Angeles. And I have to admit, while walking the aisles and looking at all this shiny, well-organized, expensive goodness; I was feeling pretty good about myself. I was shopping where important people shop. This is where I belonged, with the rich and well-educated. I bought some yogurt that was socially-conscious and full of natural vitamins—just like me. It tasted fantastic.

Then a few days ago I need some toilet paper. Knowing the aforementioned grocery store was too far away considering the immediacy of my situation, I hustled to the 99 Cent Only store a block from my apartment. I had never been in a “99” (as I later heard it called by a customer) but frequently drive past wondering how any store charges only 99 cents for every item. I was about to discover something confusing and glorious.

Here is the play by play of the next ten minutes…

-I was greeted in the parking lot by a couple of panhandlers and a mechanical horse ride for a penny. I was instinctively drawn to this 1987 relic of my childhood but was discouraged by the line.

-Inside the store there was a loose system of organizational shelving and contrary to my doubts, everything really was only 99 cents. I checked every item I picked up. Some were 2 for 99.

-I looked for fancy displays or a club card system among the white lighting, but came up short. Just brightly colored, mostly generic, stuff. No tabloid magazines either.

-I passed a mother of two young kids who were wrestling as their mom compared items, several guys who I’m pretty sure were homeless, a business woman talking on her Blackberry, a bunch of giggling high schoolers, an elderly couple, an actress who I think is on a TV show, and a very tired-looking man in a mechanic’s uniform.

-I was tempted to buy the following items: (Partly because they were cheap, partly because I felt like I won a prize when I uncovered them) A Justice League calendar, a huge watermelon, a Virginia Tech hat, a 3 liter bottle of soda, a pack of light bulbs, some fresh broccoli, a forearm strengthener, a Bible, socks, a pregnancy test, a box of Wheat Crisp crackers, a Men In Black DVD and a bag of pistachios.

-I did buy: A box of cereal, a bottle of wine, a hands free device for my cell phone, some typing paper, a reading light, 12 nutritional bars (2 for 1 special) and a 6 pack of toilet paper.

-The cashier was very courteous and I wondered what the employment benefits were like. Does she get commission bonuses? How about a 401K? Dental plan? My thoughts were interrupted when, through a toothy half-smile, she asked me for my ID before scanning the wine. Perhaps partly to make sure I was over 21 and partly to make sure I really wanted to purchase a bottle of wine for less than a dollar. I am. And I did.

-As I made my way out, one of the other cashiers was having difficulty with a homeless man who wanted to buy a Gatorade and was 13 cents short. I gave the cashier a quarter and strolled out. The homeless man said thanks.

While unpacking my bag of goodies back at my apartment I couldn’t help but think how strangely real the whole experience was. Despite that store having been around for over 7 years, the 99 felt new. It seemed oddly fresh, even good. The organic grocery store seemed a bit contrived compared to the 99. I’m all for organic socially-conscious goods, but how much of my money is paying for the yogurt I like and how much is paying for an uppity shopping experience? How much of my $4.79 is helping me say something about my person to the world? This yogurts says, “I’m smart and care about the farmers in Uganda.” Or wherever—I didn’t even check. I mean, even if one goes to Wal-Mart one is still saying to the world, “I may or may not have money but I love bulk items and rock bottom prices.” At least that’s what I want to say. Going to the 99 cent store says to the world, “I need stuff. This place has it.” And the best thing is that I don’t think the shoppers at the 99 give a damn what they are saying to the world. Or how they feel when they are in the store. They are just trying to buy stuff without spending too much and get on with more important things in their lives.

So I’m going back to the 99. After all, I can count on some interesting people, dependable prices and hopefully a bit of the authentic. And I just ran out of window cleaner today. I do not however recommend the wine.

"The NFL Has Me by the Broncos"

by Brian Watkins

I’ve found recently that many of my decisions are influenced by the National Football League. Things like how to plan my day, how to spend money, and what to be passionate about are variables in part of a series of strings that Roger Goodell yanks and guides like some sort of evil marionettist in the ivory tower of NFL headquarters in New York.

Each year, with the onset of training camp, there’s something inside me that results back to some sort of adolescent abandon; a reckless sense of juvenilia in the excitement of the new football season. And this only exists for the NFL. Although I’ll watch it and follow it, I am not a college football fanatic in the purist sense. In truth, the NFL has conditioned me with their branding and marketing. Like some sort of Disney-infected, sugar-hyped ten year-old girl screaming at a Jonas Brothers concert, the excitement at the start of the NFL season is my drug of choice come this time of year. I am the victim-equivalent of what hippie parents hate Michael Eisner for… except with football.

When the regular season rolls around John Madden, Rich Eisen, Joe Buck and Jim Nantz will wield my Sunday will: who is playing, what games will I be able to see, if I can’t see a game where can I see it. My financial decisions will have repercussions for months: Should I get this cable package or should I watch games at restaurants and bars? If I watch at restaurants and bars is there a greater cost there than if I were to get cable? Can I somehow afford to travel with the team by private jet or osmosis or some sort of Quantum Leap situation?

I am a Coloradan (or “Coloradoan” depending who you talk to), and hence, a Broncos fan (a team whose training camp started yesterday). Awaiting this day for weeks, I followed the team and players like a gossip magazine covers Britney Spears; watching all the ESPN clips and interviews, reading all the blogs, keeping track of Jay Cutler’s progress with diabetes and Brandon Marshall’s run-ins with the law. I got angry (sort of) when Marshall got a little too tired yesterday at practice. A surge of adrenaline shot through me when it was reported that “Cutler’s rifle-arm is back.” I celebrated when Ryan Clady signed a five-year deal with $11 million in guarantees… at age 21. I am a user, and fantasy football might be considered an enabler.

The problem I run into here is that I can very easily justify all this. At the heart of this consumer-cancer is something good. Something rarely found in the increasing autonomy of our culture. The “good” is that millions of fans across the nation are dealing with this exact same excited addiction… the communal will of a city all at once turning from “me” to “we” for three hours on our day of rest. That’s good.

The unanswerable question I have to ask here is if this optimism is just a healthy bi-product of all the market conditioning; a tactic in place to keep me hooked. Or, underneath the slime, has the “good” somehow truly survived? Is this question even worth asking or attempting to answer? Is it just “the system I belong to?” And, even if accompanied by a bit of rotten capitalism and a little market conditioning is this “good” not worth salvaging?

(This all may be a little too cerebral for what some would call “just a game,” but we spend hours of our lives devoted to it… I think it deserves some thought.)

If the good underneath the slime has survived it is only by the will of millions of junkies like myself, hooked up to the NFL’s corner hustle, desperately rooting for something bigger than themselves. As long as that keeps going, I think I will too… anxiously awaiting the Broncos to beat the shit out of the Raiders.

Links:

http://myespn.go.com/blogs/afcwest

http://blog.denverbroncos.com/denverbroncos

http://blogs.denverpost.com/broncos/

Fleet Foxes' "White Winter Hymnal" Music Video by Sean Pecknold

Incredibly well done new music video by Sean Pecknold for Fleet Foxes' "White Winter Hymnal". As always, Pecknold beautifully uses claymation and mind-bending images that seem like distant recollections, reviving the ancient corners of our memories. Quite fitting when paired with the music of Fleet Foxes, the new(er) Seattle band that boasts the same type of long-forgotten folkiness with pitch-perfect harmonies and a tribal quality that makes you feel strangely rooted... or something like that. All that to say: Fleet Foxes= great music. Have a listen/looksee and tell us what you think.


White Winter Hymnal from Grandchildren on Vimeo.

You can see more of Sean Pecknold's work at www.bygrandchildren.com
You can hear more of Fleet Foxes music at www.myspace.com/fleetfoxes

Fleet Foxes new album, tour dates, and bio found here.