Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Target, I'm breaking up with you.

It’s over. Please don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be. Besides, this is much harder for me than for it is for you.

I ran to you every time I needed something. In return, you pointed out at least 10 additional things I could not live without. We shared the same values. I gave you my hard earned cash. You kicked some of it back to the community. We used to laugh at Walmart and the people who shop there. You were better than it. We were better than them.

That was then.

You changed.

I don’t recognize the Target I fell in love with so many years ago. Our values are no longer the same. And you refuse to listen.

So I’m leaving. What we had is gone. While I will forever treasure the striped area rug and the awesome yellow planters, you and me are no more.

You go back to your right wing candidate. I hope, for your sake, he loves you as much as I did. But he is a politician and he only likes you for your money. You’ll see. And when you realize he has absolutely no interest in reasonably priced home décor, or the absolute best fitting t-shirt ever, it will be too late.

Have a nice life.

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Sunday, August 08, 2010

Overheard

Walking into the subway today I overheard a big burly dude singing along to his iPod. As per usual, he had no idea that a) we could hear him loud and clear and b) he was absolutely out of tune. It's true: one can actually rap off key. But what struck me about what he was singing were the lyrics. He very clearly said "my life is like mincemeat."

Now I know rap songs run the gamut from police brutality and social injustice to butts and boobs. But never, not once, have I heard one about a fruit based food. It is possible that I misunderstood, but I prefer to think he was singing about chopped fruit, distilled spirits and spices, used most often as pie filling.

So here is to you, mr. fruit based food rapper. Well done mister, well done.

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