Atmosphere Is for Meteorologists

Shortly after my wife and I were married, we mutually discovered that one of us had the interest, plus a little bit of experience, to do the grocery shopping. So began the process -- which continues to this day -- of dividing the domestic duties according to something other than standard, traditional gender roles.

Early in my tenure as the Potentate of Provender, I discovered something that put a light in my eye and a spring in my step: Edwards Food Warehouse. As it turned out, I needed all the light my eye could supply, for Edwards was a large, square, dimly-lit barn without a hint of ambiance; their purpose was to charge about 18 cents less than the other guys for each item -- passing the savings on light bulbs and shiny floor tile on to the consumer.

There are few more potent combos for me than food and saving money (see also the Entertainment Book), so it was almost a physical blow to me when Edwards went out of business. And as we moved about ourselves, virtually my first task in each new location was to scout out the grocery with the best value (in Ohio, Meijer was cheaper than Kroger; in Vermont, Price Chopper was usually better than Shaw's; back in Upstate New York, Price Chopper beats Hannaford).

I'm always diligent in tracking PC sales, especially their Buy One Get One (BOGO) and even on occasion Buy One Get Two, along with clipping coupons and using the Advantedge savings card. Of course, shopping like this means that occasionally... supply outstrips demand. So in recent years I've had a large shelf in the basement, and a small freezer in the garage to store the items that -- well, it's not that they're not needed; it's more that their time hasn't come yet. I don't think of them as "extra" or "surplus", but rather Bench Strength. Any good coach needs a deep and flexible bench. It should also be noted that in our house, we go through cereal, and peanut butter, and toilet paper like... well, like they're being used extensively every day.

One of the hidden hazards of moving was that I had to drain down the surplus a bit (plus pack a bunch of, ah, less-immediately-needed items, which itself resulted in a Spousal Advisory). So when the dust cleared in the new home -- oh, if only that were a metaphor -- I found myself feeling somewhat under-supplied to face up to the needs of the household.

The upside of the move, however (in my never-ending quest to find the silver lining for every cloud), was that I found myself a mile from BJ's Wholesale Club, which not only sells all sorts of things at a discount but was even having a sale on the membership fee! Why, it's as if they created the place specifically for me....

I am, as surely everyone who might possibly care knows, virtually unerring in my church attendance, but I find I attend BJ's scarcely less regularly. The atmosphere, if you could call it that, is reminiscent of Edwards (not to mention redolent of tires) but it looks like Shangri-La to me.

Here are some of the treasures I've unearthed on my voyages of discovery:

• % 2 one-gallon apple juice jugs linked at the handle
• % a package containing a dozen toothbrushes
• % 3 jars of peanut butter shrink-wrapped together
• % 3 one-pound bags of Goldfish, in a single box
• % a huge cello-bag of juice pops that I can "pop" in the freezer a few at a time
• % a two-pound block of mozzarella
• % a jug of Windex big enough to keep all our windows clean until we move again
• % a wall adapter for my iPod
• % 3 cans of shave gel -- say it with me -- shrink-wrapped together

So my shelves are once again robust, which in turn has contributed to a feeling of being a little more settled and "at home". Plus, if there's ever a nationwide shortage of peanut butter or shave gel, or tortellini or AA batteries, I'm going to be sitting pretty.