Fancy Apples

(Pre-Script: This post is fancy and crisp when read as the song, "Everybody's Changing," #56 on the playlist, plays in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on that song, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...) (...still waiting...)

I tell you the truth; there is much rejoicing in this city over one Target deciding to add a full grocery department, complete with frozen and perishable items including but not limited to meat and produce, than over 10 new grocery store chains. The Target closest to my house has decided to do just that. This is great news. I have already been there and purchased perishable items which were previously unpurchasable at this store. I have brought home boxes of Honey Crisp Apples, which my family and I have devoured like ravenous lions. Honey Crisp Apples from Target! Who can imagine such a glorious thing?! They were crunchy, delicious, and the sounds of the children crying, "Mom, may I have an apple?"

"Mom, may I have an apple?"

"Mom, may I have another apple?"

could be heard throughout the house. Possibly the neighborhood. You'll have to ask my neighbors. This was usually followed by a child saying, "I am going to get all the seeds out of the middle, then plant them in the backyard, and grow my own tree."

"That's nice, dear, (I would then think to myself,) You plant your seeds, you water that soil...and in 50 years, your grandchildren will maybe be able to eat from the fruit of your labor." I don't tell them this, though. I don't mind if they keep eating apples, planting the seeds, and expecting to be harvesting apples next week. I am not one to squelch their dreams. Dream big, children. For you never know when YOUR seeds will be the magic seeds that actually produce full grown trees with fruit at Ripley's Believe It Or Not speed. Which may actually not be that improbable these days, since the apples I purchased at Target had probably been injected with hormones anyway; isn't everything injected with hormones these days? So I am just saying.

Last night, I brought Derek into the newly remodeled Target. It was his first visit since they went full grocery on us. He made sure to tell me that he wanted to peruse the new perishable section. He wanted to actually see for himself the mind boggling reality of cantaloupes, salad kits, and whole frozen chickens (Oh MY!) being sold in Target, our Target, the Target we have, let's face it, taken for granted over the past, oh, 15 years or so. Well, no longer, I tell you. It will take us at least a month or two for the shock and wonder of this new fangled Target to wear off, then we will go back to our regularly scheduled take it for granted-ness. In the meantime, we perused. Then Derek asked me, "Did they have to join the Grocers Union?"

blink

blink

Y'all, go back and read that again, it is worth re-reading.

Ahem.

I at first said nothing, that's how offended I was by his failure to once again realize that I am not as omniscient as he likes to believe. In my mind, I answered, "Well, when I sat in on the Board meeting last month, they had decided that..."

But out loud, what I said was, "I have no idea what you are talking about."and, let's face it y'all, frankly, it did not even occur to me even care to know such facts; I already keep track of so much in this relatively small brain of mine, I mean seriously. It is a wonder some days the thing doesn't just explode on me, so full it is of mindless prattle.
As Derek made himself delirious paroozing the new produce aisle and tossing out produce questions I'm sure I'd have had to have gone to agricultural post graduate school to be able to actually form a coherent answer to, I set my eyes on the spot where I had previous purchased crisp, neat boxes of Honey Crisp Apples, only to find that the crisp, neat boxes of Honey Crisp apples had gone the way of last years purple acid washed denim from the Juniors Section of this very store.
In their place was a bag labeled "Fancy Apples."

What kind of apples are "Fancy," you wonder?
I know, I wondered the same thing. What could be more fancy than Honey Crisp, right? RIGHT? Right.

The Apples in the bag were Gala.
That's right, folks, not Fuji, not Pink Lady, heck, not even Golden Delicious. Just plain, old, mushy when you take a bite, and not even Granny Smith uses them for baking, Gala.
Sigh

So There goes my new fangled Target with newly remodeled full grocery section, already losing it's lustre.
So I guess you could say, there goes the neighborhood.

-XOXO,