BY CHRIS BRAUER
Advance staff
I have just read a book called Theft by Finding: Diaries 1977-2002 by David Sedaris. I finished all 514 pages in four days, and am eagerly awaiting the second volume. The entries begin when the author is 21 years old and, intentionally or not, the quarter century covered in the first volume presents a quintessentially American rags-to-riches narrative arc – from wayward youth to successful international author. Diaries often read like a series of confessions and delve deep into a writer’s raw emotions; this is not the case with Sedaris’ book. The author usually focuses away from the main action and instead on life’s compelling absurdities. He is more interested in observing human nature, catching bits of conversation, and jotting down tiny vignettes of weirdness in his amusing and unsparing style. As someone familiar with his work, I found it fascinating how he later drew from these observations to compose his longer pieces.
The problem with immersing myself in his diaries for four days is that I began to see humanity in a similar way as Sedaris does. I began to see people as characters – poor players that strut and fret upon the stage – and I realized that we are all slightly ridiculous, especially when going about our day-to-day business. I started to observe people and listen to bits of conversation, and nowhere is it more evident that we are such an odd species than when we are at the grocery store. Usually I focus on getting in and out as quickly as possible, with a shopping list and a detailed plan, but this past weekend I lingered a little for the sake of research.
I found a scruffy looking man in his 50s staring at the wall of toothbrushes in Overwaitea. He seemed lost and confused. He picked one up, inspected it, and then put it back. I stood next to him and he suddenly turned to me and asked, “Is it really necessary to have forty different toothbrushes to choose from? Can we not just have four or five? At what point does this become over-kill? And is it too much to ask for one kind of toothpaste that offers plaque protection, whitening, and long-lasting freshness all in one?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer so I just said, “I don’t know.”
He looked at me in disgust, as if I should have given him a more thoughtful answer, and then he walked away without either a new toothbrush or a tube of toothpaste.
I then wandered amongst the produce and bulk bins on the far side of the store and noticed a woman sampling the grapes. She looked around to see if anyone noticed her and then proceeded to pop another three into her mouth. I kept her in the corner of my eye as she moved towards the bulk bins. She slowly weighed her options before sampling some white chocolate chips. I had never thought to pair grapes with white chocolate, but maybe she was onto something.
A few minutes later I walked down the aisle of breakfast cereals. A mother with sensible shoes had a box of Cheerios in one hand and a box of Rice Krispies in the other hand. She seemed to be comparing the nutritional facts of each, before placing both in her shopping cart. “Cheerios on school days and Rice Krispies for the weekend,” she said to herself. Meanwhile her young son was gazing longingly at the colourful boxes of Lucky Charms and Fruit Loops. I wondered if there was ever a moment in the woman’s life when she ignored the nutritional facts and threw caution to the wind. Her son didn’t ask and neither did I.
With the increase of child obesity and all the talk of making healthier choices, I had to wonder who was still purchasing these items. I answered this question while I was shopping in Extra Foods. I found a lanky teenager with nothing in his basket except a box of Oreos and a bottle of Coca-Cola. After I paid for my purchases, I found him sitting outside on a bench. He was alone and working his way through the cookies while guzzling the soda. I had made similar decisions when I was his age and I can confirm that there is a good reason why one should not do such things.
The next day, I went into Extra Foods again and found a man slowly flipping through magazines on fishing, hunting and outdoor survival. I think he was mentally photographing every page so he wouldn’t have to pay for any of them. His basket was full of Hungry Man frozen dinners. I wondered if survival magazines and frozen dinners contradicted each other, but I didn’t comment.
When I was waiting at the till, two women were discussing their new exercise routines. “I’ve been going to the gym before work three days a week and I feel so energized,” said one with bleach blonde hair. “And I’ve started juicing.”
“I’ve cut out all refined sugar and flour,” said the woman in yoga clothes. “That stuff will cut years from your life.”
“I know… I know. I’ve been trying to get David to come with me but he just wants to stay in bed. The other day he turned over and didn’t even acknowledge me. I was so mad.”
“That is a tough battle, but keep fighting. Fight every day.”
“I will,” said the blonde woman. “And that reminds me: I need more kale. I’ve been going through that stuff like nobody’s business. Can you watch my stuff? I’ll be right back.”
“Of course,” said the woman in yoga clothes. When her friend was halfway across the store, she reached for a Skor chocolate bar, had the cashier ring it in, and then quickly tucked it into her bag.