If I Tweeted, this would be an extended chirp.. . . . . .
I knew when I headed home from shopping this morning that I should extend the trip to the west side and Famous Liquors to pick up a bottle of my traditional Christmas treat to my addled brane: a bottle of 101 proof Wild Turkey. I’ve done this once a year since I started reading Hunter S. Thompson back in 1976 , the way 10 year old boys MUST have the kind of basketball shoes that Michael Jordan wears. Famous Liquor is the traditional lowest priced place for booze, and the only one still in town is out near the Shop ‘N’ Save where I needed to visit to get some more ice cream bars and Carlo Rossi Burgundy. There were only two of the former in the fridge and about an inch point five of the latter in the bottle. That would never do for Christmas Eventide.
About 2:15 I exited Casa de Pepe headed west. I might have taken the easy way: South Grand past Washington Park to come out on Chatham Road, stopped at the grocer first and then hit Famous Liq second. I took MacArthur down into Wabash instead because I have memories of that route, past Town & Country Shopping Center, past West Grand School Yard (where I used to fly model airplanes with Mike Evoy and Phil Arndt whom I’ve not seen since junior high, and besides, if anyone decided to break into my truck with no functioning door locks in a parking lot, I’d rather have tham steal my wine and whiskey while I was buying food than steal my food while I was buying wine and whiskey. It seemed the “moral-high-ground” way to go.
The rain was as intense as a thunderstorm in July without the noise. The parking lot at Famous was as packed as I’ve ever seen it. There must have been 15 vehicles in the parking lot that seems to have not seen maintenance since 1972. From the truck I stepped, distracted into a puddle that seemed 18 inches though it was probably only 10 . . . . okay, four inches, but it was a deep four inches. The interior was stacked like Marilyn Monroe in the 1953 premier edition of Playboy. Everywhere I looked there was something tempting, something nice to see. The place had more aisles than it did last time I visited and a huge glass-enclosed humidor of cigars in the entry aisle. If I had a real employer I would have lingered there awhile and probably turned over a new leaf or two. Wines are arranged by type — Merlot, Australian, Muscatel, you can imagine. There was an impressive array of boxed wines, the kind that come in plastic bags packed in boxes with a nozzle that lets you dispense from the fridge; like a keg only more “high society.” There were also large bottles of wines — Paul Masson, Livingston Cellars — I’d probably buy if I weren’t so income-gravitated toward Rossi. Only problem: there was no Rossi in that area where most grocery stores display it. I was asked by a “Famous” associate if I was finding what I wanted and on learning I wanted Rossi he walked me to a corner of the store which — if it were an ocean liner — would be called “steerage.” He asked what I wanted, I replied “the Burgundy” and he handed it to me as he “steered” me to the checkout lanes. “Not so fat,” I thought. “Let’s look at a price,” I then said to the associate. “HMMM,” I said. $12.97! Did you know CVS Pharmacy sells it for $10.97?” He explained Famous used to match prices years ago, and he wished they still did. He also said they used to have the lowest prices in town on everything.
I returned the bottle to “Carlo Rossi Corner.” I was also told Famous used to have prices for the lesser Rossi wines (including Burgundy) and slightly higher for the higher end varieties, but they’ve discontinued that as well. “Tuff tookas!” I mumbled. “I still need some Wild Turkey,” I said and left him in my soggy dust. I knew from earlier trips where it would be, and it was.
It didn’t occur to me that Shop ‘N’ Save would sell Wil’ T’ for less than Famous, so I carried a fifth to the checkout lane, paid $23.95 for it (the bottle I bought last Christmas cost me $15.95) and departed for S’ave.
Sure enough, Rossi Burg was $12.97 at the grocer as I feared it would be. CHEESES I’d have to head back over to the CVS in my neighborhood to get it for $10.97. Coneinuing up the aisle, I found Wild Turkey 101 for $19.97. CHEESES in-fripping-DEED! Next year, I’ll know where to go. I’ll make up on savings for WT what I spend on CRB and won’t have to shop another store.
I didn’t buy ice cream bars because the chocolate shell is a challenge for my newly installed upper plate. I bought a gallon of Prairie Farms Neapolitan instead. For Christmas eve dinner, I bought some “deli” (term for something that’s as “delicatessen” as pork barbecue and baseball) chicken salad and Hawaiian salad.
I took the short way home, passing by Illini Country Club en route to the Washington Park perimeter on South Grand. The stream that meanders through the elegant golf course was two inches from overflowing. I’d never seen it close to that high, and it was flowing as fast as a stream of vitriol from Glen Beck’s radio show. There were LARGE puddles of water all over the grass. The sand trap near the street would have made a good swimming hole for Lilliputians if it hadn’t been so chilly. Something fascinates me about Springfield under major rain, and often in recent weeks, I have wished I had a camera to capture the fast-passing H2O tableau. Thank God I didn’t. It would be a one-way ticket to pneumonia and its companion malaise, oldmonia.
I had been pondering the five-block extension of my return home to get some Rossi Burgundy, and as I headed east on South Grand nearing the decision to turn onto Henrietta Avenue and a fast right to home or continue to Sixth Street . . . . . . I decided to skip the wine. I am incredibly luckin’ frucky, and the realization hit me as I passed through the green light at Walnut . . . . and hit my left turn signal. For the last three blocks I KNEW this was a story I would have to share wtih you, so as soon as I put away the groceries and Turkey 101, I sat down facing a glowing computer monitor and did just that.
Merry Christmas eve, eve eryone. I pray that you are as blessed as I!
Live long . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and proper.
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