Jerseys

Football season is pretty much here, and I am excited. In a couple of weeks I will probably come to the realization that my team, the Raiders, will suck hard yet again, but for now the chance at a fresh start brings hope.

I wish that with this fresh start I could also have hope for people. I wish I could trust that people would have better taste than to wear jerseys all throughout the season. Sadly, I doubt much will change. To be fair, there are appropriate times and places for fan jerseys.

You get a pass on Sunday, but only if you're watching a game. If you're making a trip to the store to buy some nacho cheese before the game, that's okay, but only if it's Sunday morning. The Saturday afternoon jersied grocery run is in poor taste.

If you are a child, you get a pass throughout the week. We live vicariously through you. If you are in your 30's wearing a Terrell Owens jersey on a Tuesday, there are few forgivenesses. Come to think of it, if you're anybody wearing a Terrell Owens jersey, even on Sunday, you've probably got a screw loose.

If you're at the game, I strongly support you wear a team jersey, and at the very least, the colors. But listen, if you're going to wear a Broncos jersey to the Black Hole in Oakland you probably deserve what's coming to you. You might end up with an infamous Darwin Award.

This transgression is not limited to football. A worse offender is probably basketball. I can't really think of a time when wearing a team basketball jersey is appropriate. Not even one. Now, I can't explain what I'm doing with a retro Kings Mike Bibby jersey, but I can tell you that I have never once worn it. I like that it is in my closet. I have no intention of getting rid of it, just as I have no intention of wearing it.

Look, I wouldn't say I know all about social identity theory as it pertains to team sports, but I get what's going on there. I, too, am a part of it. I might even buy a jersey someday, to be worn only at the appropriate times. And as I wrap up, consider those with their favorite team's emblem tattooed on themselves. Wild stuff. Fortunately, the ones I have seen the most have been Raiders tattoos. And that's good, because the Raiders have the most bad-ass uniforms in pro-sports. That's pretty much irrefutable. The end.

Two Strikes for Albertsons

Albertsons is really living on the edge with me. For the last fifteen months it has been my go-to grocery store, mostly for it's proximity. At only 1.5 miles from the house it is pretty much too close to avoid.

To be clear, Albertsons is no Whole Foods. It is nothing to get excited about. But, fickle as I am, it has been disappointing me. First strike against, is that they never have Ciabatta bread. They've got some impostor, which calls itself Ciabatta, but is like a loaf. There's a sandwich that I like to make and it really requires a sandwich sized square. If they came through and got me some good bread I would gladly remove the first strike.

The second strike, and one which I will not be so quick to forgive, is what they've got playing on their televisions throughout the store. I am often tortured from above by none other than the one-and-only Rachel Ray (see how I really feel about her here). Kind of makes me want to put the earphones in, preferably with some Rage Against the Machine. Loud.

To be fair, I don't see a third strike on the horizon. As it is, I will probably keep doing the majority of my grocery shopping there. One positive, is that it forced me to learn my roommate Luke's phone number, so I can reap the club savings. But that's about the only plus.

Nordstrom Part 2

A couple of days ago, Sunday to be exact, I went out to grab some lunch with the roommate (the one with a girlfriend) and his girlfriend. This turned into a lunch/shopping/movie day, which turned out pretty well. We ate at Carino's, which was alright, but had the worst Caprese salad ever. The tomatoes were cut too thick, and were pretty much like apples, so that was a bust.

After lunch we headed to Nordstrom Rack, which was really my first time. While there I realized a new level of the trickery of Nordstrom. I have grown somewhat fond of Faconnable shirts, although they are on the upper end of my price range. Well, here at the Nordstrom Rack is a whole display (I don't know what they're really called) of Faconnable shirts, some marked down over $100. This can still leave a $70 shirt, but questionable logic says that this is a remarkable deal that you cannot pass up.

This is when it occurs to me how brilliant the arrangement is. You keep your A-team (the hot girls) at the full-price store with the B-deals, and put the B-team (less-hot girls. Okay, plain...) at the store with the A-deals. Either way, as the male consumer, you are nearly defenseless. You will buy. I'm really at a (hopefully temporary) loss at how to combat this, short of avoiding the store completely.

Please share some wisdom with me if you have any suggestions.