Someone Hates Christmas More Than I Do!

I didn't think it was possible, but there is a person in this country who is even more Scroogy than I am. His name is Christopher Hitchens, and he writes for Slate magazine, and I might have to marry him. So what if he is already married? So what if he is a boozy old Commie? The heart is a lonely hunter.

Read my fiance's article, "Tis the Season to Be Incredulous: The Moral and Aesthetic Nightmare of Christmas", here.

I found five dollars in my bra. Score!

Okay, I didn't really. But I did just catch up on Radiator Toast, one of my favorite sites for recipes, coupons, and money-saving tips. I don't actually cook, use coupons, or spend my money wisely, but the blog is entertaining all the same, and it's published by my friends Ava and Penny Price. (One of those names is a pseudonym! Can you guess which one? Nice work, junior detective!)

MPR Follows Local Retailers

This holiday shopping season, Minnesota Public Radio has been keeping tabs on three local retailers. Morning Edition aired an update today, and I was pleased to hear the businesses are doing better than expected. Listen to the whole story here.

Chained Update

My "reverse experiment"--shopping only at chains during the month of December--has been an epic fail. I cheated from day one, mostly on coffee and food. What can I say? Around here, it's easy to convince people to patronize the small local place. It's harder to convince someone who wants to try the new neighborhood joint that we should go to the Ruby Tuesday in Edina instead.

To put it another way, this month has given me the excuse to shop wherever I damn well please. I admit, it's been a relief to buy most of my household staples cheaply and in a single location: Target. With the cold weather this month, I've also enjoyed picking up groceries at the Lunds near my office instead of snowshoeing down to The Wedge twice a week.

I still intend to buy whatever I can, whenever I can, from independent retailers. I believe that independent businesses strengthen our communities both socially and economically. I believe that independent businesses empower consumers by giving them more choices. I believe that independent businesses defend us from the multinational corporations that are in many ways more powerful than our nation's government. That said, I am calling this experiment off early. I went three full months without any major cheats. Maybe I'm setting the bar too low, but I think that's pretty good.

I'm going to keep Unchain My Cart going, and I'll continue to write about small business and about my adventures in shopping small. But I will no longer restrict myself to shopping only at businesses with fewer than three locations. It isn't impossible, but it is challenging. Sometimes I'm just not up for a challenge. Sometimes, I'm up for a Peanut Buster Parfait. Sorry.

One of the things I'd like to complete within the next month or so is a price comparison: how much more (or less) expensive is it to buy groceries and other staples from local independent retailers than it is to buy them at regional or national chains? Stay tuned for the results.

The Rise and Fall of the Shopping Mall

Here's a cool article from The Economist about the rise and fall of the American shopping mall. The article is a year old and a little too kind to "lifestyle centers", which strike me as contrived, weak replacements for the bustling downtowns of the pre-mall era. Still, you should read it. Sarah Palin did, I'm sure.

Tips for small biz from the U of MN

Thanks to Sarah Morean for sending me this video from the U of MN about what small businesses and historic business districts can do to increase their traffic. Note the emphasis on independent businesses as "destinations," a topic I have previously discussed in this blog.

Scrooge, Part Two

This is also why I don't buy Christmas gifts.

Scrooge, Part One

This is why I don't buy Christmas gifts.

Supersize This

I just returned from a little trip to Ukraine (that's in Eurasia, dropouts!), and I'm a'yearnin' for a little Americana.  There is nothing--and I mean nothing--more American than snarfing down a Big Mac Extra Value Meal while trying on saggy sweatshop jeans at a Super Wal-Mart in the sticks.  Yee-haw!

What am I saying? This, friends: I'm temporarily changing the parameters of this experiment. From today until December 25th (that's Christmas, heathens!), I'm going to shop exclusively at chain stores: no independents allowed.  

Wacky!

Will it be easier?  Or will it be tougher?  

I guess I'll find out.  

Hohoho!

P.S.  I don't buy Christmas gifts (because I'm a heathen, dropouts!), so my month's contribution to the bottom lines of global corporations shouldn't be too significant.  

Time constraints, 1. Principles, 0.

A confession: I shopped at Target yesterday.

An excuse: I was short on time and I needed to buy several gifts and other items before my trip to Ukraine. I knew it would be faster and cheaper to get these things at Target than to shop independent.

A chastening: I got TOTALLY busted by a friend of mine, who spotted me with a basket full of merchandise as I was getting on the escalator.

HIPPO. CRITICAL.

At the Maul

This afternoon I went to the Mall of America in pursuit of souvenirs to bring my friends in Ukraine. At Minnesota-Ah, which I believe is a single-location store, I spent so much money on Chinese-made Minnesota-themed goods that the cashier gave me a free notepad. Umm, score?

The Mall of America is one of the most garish monuments to consumerism in this country, and even before I got all persnickety about chain stores I hated going there. What I hate most about The Mall is not its insane size or its fluorescent lighting or the crush of out-of-town rubberneckers or even the nonstop shouts of terror and joy that originate at the indooor rollercoaster and echo throughout all 2.5 million square feet of Megamall. No, what I hate most about the Mall of America is how I feel when I'm there: greedy and obsessed. The desire to spend money I don't have on shit I couldn't possibly need is almost painful. Things I never knew I wanted become, suddenly, almost impossible to live without. Will buying this cable-knit sweater cape make me a happier and hipper person? YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT IT WILL.

One of my favorite books is White Noise by Don DeLillo. When I'm at The Mall, or any mall, this excerpt always comes to mind:

When times are bad, people feel compelled to overeat. Blacksmith is full of obese adults and children, baggy-pantsed, short-legged, waddling. They struggle to emerge from compact cars; they don sweatsuits and run in families across the landscape; they walk down the street with food in their faces; they eat in stores, cars, parking lots, on bus lines and movie lines, under the stately trees. Only the elderly seem exempt from the fever of eating. If they are sometimes absent from their own words, they are also slim and healthy-looking, the women carefully groomed, the men purposeful and well dressed, selecting shopping cars from the line outside the supermarket.

The fever of eating, the fever of consuming. Whatever you call it, it's a sickness.

My neighborhood

I attended a meeting of my neighborhood organization's development committee last night. We discussed, among other things, the possibility of the neighborhood organization opening a coffee shop or other store in a vacant retail space at the corner of Franklin and Nicollet. Though the benefits of opening a shop are numerous, doing so would also be a big freaking hassle. No decisions were made, and the committee members are going to do some further research into the costs and risks. Another option would be to recruit an appropriate business into the space. Regardless of the outcome, it's great to live in a community that is so invested in making itself safer and more viable.

'Bux

Just read an interesting article about our ambivalence toward Starbucks. If you insist on getting your coffee there, I implore you to try the ghetto latte. Work the system, people. Work it!

David, 1; Goliath, 0.

Kudos to the city of Bloomington, Minnesota for fending off the unwanted advances of a SuperTarget last night. Read about it here.

Dahl Pharmacy

Props to Dahl Pharmacy for keepin' it real on Nicollet Mall. This place is a lot like a Walgreens in that it has all kinds of random crap, including my favorite SPF moisturizer (which, as some of you may remember, is not available at Burch Pharmacy.) I'd previously overlooked Dahl because I thought, incorrectly, that they carry only old-people medical supplies like wheelchairs and colostomy bags. (A sign on the window invites passersby to browse the store's extensive selection of canes and walking sticks. You can see why I was confused.) As it turns out, however, they have plenty to offer people still young enough to worry about skin cancer and premature wrinkling. They even have a small grocery section. What an extraordinary store. Someone should give them a medal or the key to the city or something.

Why iTunes Sucks

Thanks to Frodo for sending me this article from his hometown newspaper about an independent music store that, no longer able to compete with iTunes and the big box stores, is closing its doors after 17 years in business. This is what happens when people stop shopping local: they limit their future shopping options. Though picking up a few CDs at Walmart instead of at your local record store may not seem like a big deal to you, it adds up, and eventually it drives local merchants out of business. Once that happens, you no longer have the choice of investing your music budget in the local economy. Those dollars instead migrate to Silicon Valley (iTunes), Seattle (Amazon), Bentonville (Walmart) or a kajillion other places that you don't call home.

Chicago

I just returned from a weekend trip to Chicago to see my Peace Corps comrades. I stayed with my friend Laney Heston (names have been changed to protect innocent). Laney lives in the adorable Lincoln Square neighborhood, in a spartan apartment in which she hoards Ziplock bags and deli containers just like your grandmother does. The recession is upon us, and Laney is ready for it.

I knew when I began this experiment that travel would present a challenge, but Chicago was no threat to my unchained life. It's an awesome city, with plenty to offer the indie consumer. I cheated only twice, once to buy a cup of coffee at a Dunkin' Donuts at 6am (you can't blame me for not wanting to wander the Loop in the dark when a Dunkin' was across the street from my bus stop) and once for tampons at a Walgreens. Sometimes you've just got to take care of business, you know?

On Saturday, we went to a matinee at Second City (which I would not consider a chain even though it has outposts in a handful of cities.) Naturally, all I can think about now is moving to Chicago to devote my life to sketch comedy. Quick, people, talk me out of it.

Unchained FAIL

I couldn't find inkjet cartridges anywhere! I called art stores. I called bookstores. On Monday, I signed up for online accounts at two local independent office supply companies, but I haven't received confirmation from either of them, so screw it.

I am completely out of ink. If I can't print, I can't work, so today I ordered cartridges from Office Depot. It's my first Unchained FAIL. I feel like a relapsed junkie or something. Before you know it, I'll be selling sex for Post-Its. If it's good enough for Marcia Brady, it's good enough for me.

How to Succeed in Indie Retail

I've been thinking a lot about why some small retailers manage to stay afloat (and even thrive) despite competition from monolithic corporations but others simply deflate like tired old balloons. Certain categories of independent business--food and beverage, for example--tend to do better than others (pharmacy, grocery, hardware). I think the common denominator among the stores that succeed is that they make themselves a destination, rather than merely a place to buy goods.

I've been to a lot of knitting supply stores in the past week, and the ones that appear most buoyant are those that have tables and chairs so customers can sit and knit, and chit-chat, and solicit advice from the staff; many of them also offer knitting and crocheting classes. They are more than stores--they are gathering places for people with common interests. The same is true of the bookstores and music shops that have managed to weather the rise of Wal-Mart (now America's number one seller of compact discs) and the proliferation of big box "category killers" like Barnes & Noble. They have retained their customers by offering the things the big boxes can't or won't--author readings, book clubs, CD release parties, and in-store concerts. (On the flip side, one of the reasons that Barnes & Noble and Borders have so successfully smeared the competition is that, with their big comfortable chairs and their in-store cafes, they are also destinations.)

Restaurants, bars, coffee shops, fitness studios, and the like have a built-in advantage over other types of business, because they are, by definition, social spaces in which an activity (other than perusing and buying goods) takes place. Service-based businesses (plumbing, graphic design, dentistry, auto mechanics) have a similar advantage, in that skills and knowledge--rather than parts--are the real product for sale. Independent retailers, however, have to work harder to be competitive. And since they can rarely afford to match the big boys on price, they must make up for it in atmosphere, expertise, events, and community.

Triangulation

I just read an article about commuting in an old New Yorker. It quotes political scientist Robert Putnam (author of "Bowling Alone") as describing the place you sleep, the place you work, and the place you shop as the three points of a triangle. In a small European village, it would take only a few minutes to walk each side of that triangle. In many American cities, you could spend an hour or two driving each side. Putnam's research shows that there is a correlation between happiness and triangle size: "the smaller the triangle, the happier the human, as long as there is social interaction to be had."

My triangle has a perimeter of roughly five miles. I can walk the longest side in 45 minutes or bike it in 10.

How big is your triangle?

Crack

It's been a month and a half since I last shopped at a chain store, and I'm starting to crack. Where will I get ink for my printer? Who will sell me airline-approved travel containers for an upcoming flight to Ukraine? What was I thinking when I started this stupid experiment? How come "A Year Shopping Small" sounds so much better than "Two Weeks of Shopping Small" or "Just Over A Month of Shopping Small"? Why oh why oh why did Target just send me the most fabulous cookware brochure?

Isn't life tough enough? Why am I making things harder for myself? Aren't I too young to be this eccentric?

There is a silver lining, though. When I'm in Ukraine in November, I'm totally stocking up on cheap socks and underwear at the bazaar: an unchainder in an unchained land.

Talkies

Check out this article, from Metro magazine, about Minneapolis movie rental store Cinema Revolution. Of particular interest: the curatorial aspect of independent retailers. The store is moving to a new location this month. Check it out after the fifteenth at 24th and Lyndale.

Spree

I went on a retail bender this weekend. Notable stops included:

• Sophie Joe's Emporium. This vintage store, on West 7th Street in Saint Paul, is both cozy and expansive, a huge space crammed full of eclectic, affordable clothing, shoes, jewelry, household goods, and knick-knacks. My friend Sarah J. and I spent a solid hour and a half foraging, an activity I always find more challenging and enjoyable than merely shopping. I refer to this as the "buried treasure effect." Secondhand shoppers and garage salers know what I mean.
  
• Grand Old Creamery. This place smells delicious, it has a jukebox, and the ice cream was great even on a crisp autumn morning; on a hot summer night, all those homemade flavors would probably give me a seizure, and I mean that in the best possible way. It's on Grand Avenue.
  
• Cooks of Crocus Hill and The Yarnery. I don't cook or knit, but I can see why cooks and knitters would appreciate these stores, both also on Grand Avenue. I appreciated the abundant natural lighting.
• Magers & Quinn Booksellers, at the corner of Hennepin and Lake in Minneapolis. They've got everything--and what they haven't got, they can get. (Little known fact: the average independent bookstore carries more titles than the average Barnes & Noble or Borders.) The guy who rang up my books asked me what my favorite Beatles song is.
  
• Everyday People, next door to Magers & Quinn. This used clothing store is an old favorite, and they have a second location in Dinkytown. (Reasonably well-known fact: buying used is lots greener than buying new. It's also more fun: see "buried treasure effect".)

I also stumbled upon an independent gas station, which I was surprised to find. There aren't many of those left.

Unchained Book Review

I just finished this book, Big-Box Swindle: The True Cost of Mega-Retailers and the Fight for America's Independent Businesses, by Stacy Mitchell. It should be required reading for everyone who shops. From the book jacket:

"Mitchell traces the dramatic growth of mega-retailers--from big boxes like Wal-Mart, Home Depot, Costco, and Staples to chains like Starbucks, Olive Garden, Blockbuster, and Old Navy--and the precipitous decline of independent businesses. Drawing on examples from virtually every state in the country, she unearths the extraordinary impact of these companies and the big-box mentality on everything from soaring gasoline consumption to rising poverty rates, failing family farms, and declining voting levels. Along the way, Mitchell exposes the shocking role government policy has played in the expansion of mega-retailers and builds a compelling case that communities composed of many small, locally owned businesses are healthier and more prosperous than those dominated by a few large chains."

If your local bookseller hasn't been driven out of business by Barnes and Noble or Borders, go on out and buy your copy today.

Celebrity Sighting!

Just days ago, I was complaining that Minneapolis has no good celebrities; today I'm pleased to report that I spoke too soon: I saw Joel Coen and Frances McDormand last night at the Doucheburger! Unfortunately, I didn't get to wait on them. I did, however, keep their kitchen receipt to show my grandchildren. (Which star ordered the all-you-can-eat sausage buffet? I'll never tell.)

As titillating as the experience was for me and the rest of the yokels in the restaurant, I admit I'm a little hurt that Joel didn't take the opportunity to offer me a role in his next film. I guess some people don't recognize talent when it's gawking at them from behind a stack of menus.

Hark!

This weekend I picked up some frozen raspberries and a bottle of V-8 at Hark's Food Market, on 24th and Nicollet. A Google search for Hark's led me to this MPR story about a murder that happened on this corner in 2006. What I found most interesting about the story was Whittier resident Christina Schmitt's presumption that locally-owned businesses like Hark's contribute to the neighborhood's safety. As MPR's reporter points out, plenty of crimes are committed in the area, some of them serious, many of them right in front of Hark's. Yet I wonder how many more crimes might be committed there if the owners of Hark's--who evidently live not far from the store--weren't keeping an eye on things. "The more I know [the people who loiter near the store]," says owner Ian Ates, "the less they cause troubles. It's like an unspoken bond."

Celebrity Keg Tapping

Well, folks, it's time for another Oktoberfest at the Doucheburger. The festivities start tonight, when local weathergoon Sven Sundgaard will tap the ceremonial keg.

Events like this make me feel sad for the City of Lakes. Why can't we attract better celebrities?

A small business of my own

About this time last year, I threw off the chains of steady employment to start a freelance commercial writing business. It (and I) have evolved significantly since then. Most significantly, I've joined forces with several amazing people, and together we have founded a new company, Kazoo Branding. Today is our official launch. Check us out at www.kazoobranding.com.

Before I began this blog, I carefully considered the impact my experiment might have on my business. The Kazooks and I hope to work with all kinds of companies, including the big chains that I'm refusing to shop at for another eleven months. Who knows how it will all shake out, but my hope is that I'll gain some insight into why some small businesses thrive but others buckle under the weight of the big boxes, and into how the big chains can participate more fairly and actively in the communities they inhabit.

Mel's Diner

Okay, here's a confession: I wait tables part-time. Here's another confession: I store pens in my hairdo and I chew a lot of gum. Basically, this is me.

If those behaviors are waitressy, than I'm a waitress even when I'm at my real job. I can chew half a pack a day, easy, and I was worried that it would be hard to find gum near my office. (The huge Lunds down the street was my pre-unchained supplier.) But, lo and behold, there's an independent grocer on the next block: Galapagos Market, at 420 East Hennepin. I had to speak Spanish to get my chicle, but I didn't mind. They also have boligrafos for sale. Que buena suerte!

Thai Tae Tie Ty

On Saturday, I had dinner with my friends Josh and Sarah at True Thai on Franklin Avenue. The place has gotten a lot of positive buzz lately, and I wasn't disappointed. The food was cheap and fantastic and, best of all, the plates were garnished with these flower-shaped carrot cutouts that, when placed upside down on your thumb, look just like Raggedy Ann's hair.

Coffee Crawl Friday: Apartment 104

The place: small and kind of dirty. The coffee: who can tell underneath all the half-and-half? The barista: grouchy and frumped out. But I'll be damned if it didn't feel like home.

Coffee Crawl Thursday: Diamonds Coffee Shoppe

Diamonds Coffee Shoppe is located on the most godawful strip of Central Avenue. There are a few wooden tables set up in front of the shop(pe), but between the trucks belching past and the general fugliness of the scenery, I can't imagine anyone would want to sit there for longer than it takes to wait out an asthma attack. However, like countless people who grew up in total shitholes, Diamonds turned out cool in spite of its surroundings. It has a biker vibe (Harleys, not Schwinns), several small eclectic seating areas, talented neighbors, and "reasonably bottomless" cups of coffee. It's just the kind of unpretentious, blue-collar place that makes Northeast so Northeasty, and if you're in the area you should probably stop in. They also have beer.

Diamonds Coffee Shoppe
1618 Central Ave. NE
612.789.JAVA

Coffee Crawl Wednesday: Wilde Roast Cafe

If I had a more sophisticated palate, I'd talk about the coffee. If I had a more sophisticated education, I'd talk about the art. Suffice it to say that the Wilde Roast Cafe is pleasant and Victorian and its menu is extensive and contemporary, and that I like both the coffee and the art. I have a weakness for portraiture, as I imagine Oscar Wilde must have--what else could possess a man to write an entire novel about a portrait? Wilde can't be faulted for his appreciation of the form; the Victorians were too busy playing croquet to deconstruct art. If I'd ever bothered to take an art history class, I'd probably know that portraits are a tool of the bourgeois and that the bourgeois are a bunch of tools. Thank god I'm so unsophisticated: just look at her gorgeous earrings.

Wilde Roast Cafe
518 East Hennepin Ave.
612.331.4544

Coffee Crawl Tuesday: Taraccino Coffee

Taraccino Coffee: I'm here nearly every day because it's across the street from my office. What can I say about a place that's so familiar? The decor is unremarkable. The coffee is great. (Taraccino is one of the few places I frequent that offers a medium roast.) It recently came under new ownership, but besides seeing some new faces behind the cash register I haven't noticed any big changes. Before I started this experiment, it never bothered me that Taraccino shares retail space with a Bruegger's franchise. Now, I can smell a bagel being toasted, and I covet it.

Taraccino Coffee
224 E. Hennepin Ave.
612.617.0292

Coffee Crawl Monday: Aster Cafe

I've walked past the Aster Cafe hundreds of times, but this is the first time I've been in. It won't be the last. The place is gorgeous. Soft lighting. Leather sofas. A piano in the corner, currently sitting idle. Outside, on the fenced-in patio, a trio of lumberjackish men are talking quietly. Without beard or flannel to keep me warm, I thought it best to stay indoors. Though the Aster Cafe has sandwiches, soups, desserts, beer, and wine, I'm drinking just a cup of coffee. (It's only ten-thirty. I stopped boozing in the morning when I stopped teaching high school.)

Unfortunately, the place is nearly empty. I reckon I've caught them between the morning and the noon rush. The only other customers are a pair of fiftysomething women, both wearing dangly jewelry and outdated hairstyles. They look like middle-school art teachers; I can't tell what they're drinking.

Aster Cafe
125 Main Street SE
612-379-3138

Northeast Coffee Crawl

Last December, Slate Magazine published an article claiming that Starbucks actually helps mom and pop coffeehouses succeed. By creating greater general demand for coffee, the Seattle-based giant has boosted everybody's business.

I don't totally buy this story. Still, there are plenty of places to get a decent cup in Minneapolis, and to celebrate that, I'm going to hit up a different place every day this week. I'll start at the Aster Cafe (125 Main Street SE) and work my way northeast. Here's the tentative agenda:

Monday: Aster Cafe
Tuesday: Taraccino Coffee (224 East Hennepin Ave.)
Wednesday: Wilde Roast Cafe (518 East Hennepin Ave.)
Thursday: Diamonds Coffee Shop (1618 Central Ave. NE)
Friday: ?????????

According to EnergyFiend.com, it would take 85.71 cups of coffee to kill me. I'll try to enjoy in moderation.

So Long, Independent Druggists

Thanks to Frodo for sending me this New York Times story about the disappearance of independent drugstores! Read it. And weep.

Hint and you shall receive

Histamine problem solved!

My mom called this morning. She and my dad are visiting this weekend. In addition to being the world's best house guests (knowing that I neither cook nor clean, they are bringing their own sheets, their own towels, and a lasagna), they are also delivering a big ol' box of Alavert, purchased on the cheap at the biggest big box store of them all: Super WalMart.

It's not cheating if I didn't request it. Right?

Queen Bee

Burch Pharmacy and Gifts is one of the last independent drugstores still standing in Minneapolis. It may actually be the last. I strenuously hope that isn't the case, not because I'm nostalgic* or sentimental**, but because Burch's crappy selection of health and beauty products is cramping my experiment. I went there this evening in search of moisturizer and allergy medication. The moisturizer, they didn't have. The allergy medication, they did, but the cost seemed outrageous considering the everyday low price my mom gets on jumbo boxes of the stuff at Wal-Mart.

As a stand-in for my tried and true SPF 15 moisturizer, I bought a jar of "day creme with royal jelly" that's "98.20% natural," whatever that means. Wikipedia says royal jelly is a "bee secretion", so, like, who wouldn't want to smear it all over their face? I'll forgo the allergy medication until I find a better supplier or until my sinuses rupture, whichever comes first. In the meantime, if you see Freddy Krueger blowing his seasonally allergic nose, don't be alarmed. It's probably just me, disfigured by my day cream. At least fedoras are in this season.

*I'm not remotely geriatric enough to remember when local drugstores were the norm, though I think I've seen them a time or two on the teevee set.

**I am a cold-hearted capitalist.

Central Perk

Today's Wi-Fi connection (full disclosure: I have broadband at home and at my office, and it's provided by Qwest) comes to us courtesy of The Boiler Room Cafe on south Third Avenue. It's my version of Central Perk. No Gunther, though. According to Wikipedia, he's still coasting on his Friends fame:

Mojtaba Asadian started a "Central Perk" franchise, registering the name in 32 countries. The decor of his coffee houses is inspired by that in Friends. James Michael Tyler, who plays Gunther, the Central Perk waiter in love with Rachel, attended the grand opening of the flagship Dubai cafe and is the spokesman for the company.

Evidently, the store has only one other location, in Geneva, which means it's not a chain. Ergo, if I find myself in Switzerland or the 'Emirates during the next 51 weeks, I am sooooooooo stopping in for a latte. Just in case, I'd better hoof it down to an indie salon and get myself a Rachel. I like to be prepared for all eventualities.

Sunscreen

I thought I'd solved my problem when I found an online store with a retail location in Minneapolis. Then I browsed their line of sun-protective swimwear. Not exactly what I was hoping for, but I'll keep it in mind in case I get drafted to swim for Team Islam.

Sink or Swim

My first crisis is now.

I want to learn to swim. To do so, I'm going to have to join a gym. Here's the problem: the only gym I can find that 1) has a pool; 2) is affordable; and 3) is close to my apartment is the YWCA. Even though the YWCA is a "nonprofit membership association" and not a for-profit company, it has many of the characteristics of a chain. So of course I should steer clear of it.

But: dragging myself to the gym is difficult under any circumstances. Why make myself less likely to go by enrolling in some distant fitness center? And also: a friend has generously offered to give me swimming lessons, with one caveat: I have to do my learnin' at her pool. Where does she swim? The Y.

So that's that.

I'm also going to need a new swimming suit, something sportier and less mortifying than the American flag-patterned tankini I already own. I managed to locate two non-chain swimwear shops in the Twin Cities. The first, Pure Blue Swim Shop, is in Plymouth. The bus doesn't go there. It does, however, go to Rah Sports in Richfield. Unfortunately, my phone call to Rah was answered by a machine, and the company's laughable website makes me wonder whether the store exists at all.

My first lesson is Sunday.

Guten Food

I'm blogging tonight from The Black Forest Inn, or, as I like to call it, the Douche Burger*. I'll be waiting tables there through the end of Oktoberfest, so if you want me to botch your order and spill beer on you, you'd better stop in soon. The free public Wi-Fi is one of the best-kept secrets in the Twin Cities. (Don't tell the college students. Those guys tip even worse than the elderly.)

A cold beer awaits, and it's well-deserved: this evening, I waited on both students and senior citizens. Best tipper of the night? Girlfriend of a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache.


*I stole this phrase from the patrons, who mispronounce "Deutschburger Casserole"** with hilarious frequency.
**This item tastes like dog food. The Black Forest serves many fine German dishes, but this isn't one of them.

Organic Nanners

After a late lunch/early dinner at Pracna ("the oldest restaurant on the oldest street in Minneapolis"), I biked over to The Wedge for some overpriced produce. The expense was worth it: while I was browsing the bulk goods aisle, I bumped baskets with a guy who looked just like Mr. T.

Life Takes Visa

My new Visa card arrived in the mail today. I thought it would be prudent to apply for one, as independent retailers usually just shrug when I whip out the AmEx. Don't they know it's endorsed by celebrities?

Day 1 of 365: The First Non-Chain Purchase

My first act of non-chain consumerism wasn't much of a challenge. I bought a loaf of bread, a bag of cat food, a bottle of Gatorade, and a box of Cheez-Its at Third Avenue Food Market, just down the block from my building. I shop there all the time. To the novice Third Ave Marketeer, the place might seem a little shady: it's grimy, poorly-lit, and located just north of a corner where a person who was so inclined could probably find a crack whore, or some crack. But the staff is wonderful, and much-beloved by neighborhood association-types because they keep the sidewalk clean and contribute food for local events. In addition to selling groceries, Third Avenue Market also pedals gyros, has a copy machine, and rents out videos. I have to love it.

Consumerist Manifesto

Starting today, I'm giving up chain stores for a year. Retail. Food. Entertainment. If it's a chain, it's going to have to live without my business until September 1st, 2009. I've set some criteria for myself:

1. If a store has more than three locations, I'm calling it a chain. This number is arbitrary.
2. Franchises count. A Burger King that is locally owned and operated is still a Burger King. The food, the store design, and the customer experience are essentially the same at every location.
3. Ownership doesn't count. Example: Restaurateur Tom Pham owns several restaurants in the Twin Cities, but each is unique. They have different names, different menus, and different decor. So if I want to stumble over to Azia for some cranberry puffs and a refreshing glass of liquor, I totally can.
4. Sponsorship doesn't matter. I can attend events sponsored by anyone and everyone, just as long as the event doesn't take place inside a chain store.
5. Internet shopping is a cop-out. This experiment is about the diversity of our experiences. There are few things more ordinary than eating and shopping, and we make them still more ordinary by frequenting chain stores, which are engineered to deliver the same experience every time, to every customer, at every location. Shopping at chains is boring, but at least it offers the chance of running into an acquaintance, being rammed by the cart of a fellow shopper, or hitting it big when you slip on an unmarked wet floor and sue K-Mart for ten million dollars. The most exciting side effects of internet shopping are eye fatigue and credit card debt.

I may establish more criteria as the experiment continues and issues that I didn't have the foresight to predict arise. For now, these should cover it. This project also has some natural parameters:

1. Money: I'm not rolling in it. While I'm willing to cough up a little extra to shop small and local, there is a limit to what I can spend. Part of the fun of this project is in seeing how feasible it is for an average person to avoid shopping at chain stores.
2. Distance: I don't own a car. If a store isn't bikeable or bus-able, it isn't doable.
3. Time: I'll try to make enough of it to carry out this project. I may not always succeed. I hope the whens, whys, and hows of my inevitable failures will be instructive.