Ollie Warhol

Today was about as raw an April day as I can remember, with more cold rain and snappy winds to come tomorrow. This year it’s as if early February traded places with early April, though not quite. At least the snow melted.

With a digital camera, anyone can create Warhol-like images.

When Andy Warhol died in 1987, he was already playing with computerized images. What if he’d lived long enough to create web sites? What would he have done with social media?

All that occurred to me at the catch-as-catch-can retailer Ollie’s, though the thought could have been inspired by many retailers.

The last time I was there, more politically inspired dog toys had turned up.

I was tempted to acquire Slick Willie to go with Bernie. But no. Not because we don’t have a dog any more. She would have chewed such toys to bits, so it wouldn’t have been for her, but just a whimsy of mine. But I have enough useless items. Not, however, enough useless images, which take up a lot less physical space.

The Odds

A random thought today: Do the Irish bookies take bets on when and which company will be indicted next for antitrust violations? One table of odds for the U.S. and a different one for the European Union?

Not sure why I thought of that. Just one of those passing notions.

Somehow the Bernie Bros Missed This One

A few weeks ago, I went again to Ollie’s, whose appeal is the randomness of its merchandise, and there he was, among the packaged foods and housewares and small appliances and furniture and bric-a-brac, no other stuffed politicos around, no tag or bar code.

“This the funniest thing I’ve seen all day,” I said to the clerk. “How much?”

I was only kidding. It was the funniest thing I’d seen all week, maybe all month. He spent a minute or so tapping into a laptop near the register, but soon gave up the chase. “How about $3.99?” he said.

Sold.

A product of Fuzzu, a Vermont designer of pet toys. I’d say maker, but for Bernie at least that occurred in China. Bernie isn’t alone — well, he was when I found him, but had he been separated, a la Toy Story, from the rest of the Fuzzu stable? Joe, Kamala, Donald, Mike, Hillary, Bill and Rootin’ Tootin’ Putin.

Mike? The former Mayor Bloomberg, it seems, since on his back is “Pop Cop.”

Now Bernie joins my small collection of presidential ephemera: postcards, a few buttons, my Franklin Pierce bobblehead and William Henry Harrison Pez dispenser and Eugene V. Debs ribbon. My definition of presidential is pretty broad, and certainly includes serious if quixotic candidates for the nomination.

Thursday Cha-Chings

Ann came home for spring break today. I offered to subsidize her expenses on a romp somewhere, even a mild sort of romp like my spring breaks of yore, such as to cloudy St. Petersburg, Florida, where we stayed at the condo belonging to the grandmother of one of our party (she wasn’t there) and found one of Vaughn Meader’s Kennedy records stashed away in her record collection. But Ann preferred to come here.

Remarkably, the fellow who produced The First Family in 1962, one Bob Booker, is still alive at 92, at least according to Wiki. Of course, he was only 31 then.

Saw this phrase at a supermarket recently, on banners hanging from the ceiling. Cha- ching!

The point in this case was to persuade shoppers that the store offers low, low prices. Save some cha-ching here or some such. I think most people understand that the phrase refers to cash register noise, and thus hard cold cash in one way or another, but it made me wonder how many people any more have even heard a cash register make a sound like that?

Because I am of a certain age, I have. I’m pretty sure the dime store I patronized ca. 1970 still had mechanical registers. But that was long ago, and even then the sound was a little old-timey. Now even the smallest stores in the nation’s remote backwaters use electronic registers, whose signature sound is a muffed beep-beep-beep that’s weak tea when it comes up to conjuring up images of drawers full of money. And yet cha-ching! lives on. Just another shiny bit in the jewel cave of English.

One more pic from Devon Ave. in Chicago on Sunday.

The mural is just outside the entrance to Cary’s, the bar I went to. As far as I saw, this was the only reference to Alice in Wonderland around. Why is it there? Why not?

Street View tells me that this small mural is a recent addition, too. It wasn’t there the last time the All-Seeing Eye passed by in November 2022. The bar’s wonderful neon sign has been there longer, appearing sometime between August 2007 (the first image available) and May 2009. That was a period of economic disruption, so maybe the bar did well enough to spring for the sign.

This from the NYT today: “President Biden has selected his education secretary, Miguel Cardona, to be the so-called designated survivor during Thursday night’s State of the Union address, a grim moniker meant to ensure at least one decision maker survives if a calamity were to wipe out the nation’s leadership assembled at the Capitol for the speech.”

Grim moniker, huh? Journalism might be a sickly industry, but journalese turns of phrase live on. Hard to imagine anyone actually saying that.

As for the office, the Secretary of Education is 15th in line to become president (vice president being first), which means that “designated survivor” is probably the only ghost of a chance of succeeding to the top spot, without the usual rarefied politicking of a presidential run, that the Secretary of Education has.

How long has that been a cabinet-level position? Right, the first one was during the Carter administration. Carving Education out of Health, Education and Welfare was, in fact, a campaign promise that he was able to keep, for what that was worth.

Valentine’s Day Helium

A slice of late March slipped into early February today, not quite warm but certainly not cold, windy and a scattering of rain. The atmosphere was charged enough to set of the waaah-waaah lightning warning gizmo installed in the park within sight of my back yard. Hadn’t heard its bleat in months. Didn’t see any actual lightning.

Went to a local chain grocery store this evening after work, a place I go maybe once a month, though it’s only about a five-minute drive. The local grocery market is saturated. Whatever the opposite of a food desert is, the northwestern suburbs are that.

The store isn’t really local, having been owned by Big Grocery for some years now. But it keeps its legacy name, known to Chicagoans far and wide. The aisles are, of course, fully ready for the next occasion on the North American calendar.Valentines candy Valentines balloons

Wait – isn’t there a helium shortage? That’s one of those things I’ve half heard about, but never looked into much. Yes and no is the answer, at least according to an article, restricted to about four paragraphs for us non-subscribers of Gas World, about the prospects for the far-flung international helium market in 2024.

“Intelligas’ assessment of the worldwide supply of helium is about 5.9 billion cubic feet (Bcf) for 2023, up from about 5.7 Bcf in 2022 – back where we were in 2021.

“We forecast that worldwide supply will be short of demand until late 2024 if the large new sources of helium come onstream. The shortage that began in early 2022 when Amur suffered explosions at its first two LNG trains is still having an impact. And history has taught those of us in the helium business that large plants typically incur delays due to unexpected technical issues. Plenty of uncertainty remains.”

Amur explosions?

Again from Gas World, about two years ago: “New information about the explosion and fire that took place at Gazprom’s Amur natural gas processing facility on 5th January [2022] indicates that helium production will remain offline for at least the next six months.”

Maybe I heard about that at the time, but other news from Russia soon eclipsed anything as pedestrian as an industrial accident.

Good ol’ Gazprom. Its name, I believe, goes back to the late Soviet era. Say what you want about the commies, they came up with some boss names sometimes.

Joong Boo

When Toys R Us went under, I remember fans came out of the woodwork to tell the world how wonderful the chain was, and how it would live forever in a nostalgic corner of their hearts. Maybe you had to be a former child visitor to the stores to feel that way. Big places seem even bigger at that age, and big places stuffed with toys – what could be better?

The toy stores of my youth were standalones or in-line shops – small presences on long streets or in large malls. The closest I remember to a warehouse toy store was chain of mall toy stores whose name I’ve long forgotten, but which seemed to stack its merchandise floor to ceiling. Occasionally I bought model airplanes there. Forward 30 years and a Toys R Us location might hold 10 of those mall stores I remember from childhood. So I can see they might have been wowsers to the crop of children that came of age when Toys R Us was open.

First encountering Toys R Us as a parent of young children is another matter. When I wasn’t myself marveling at the profusion of entertainment options for small fry, because the stock was always an impressive array, I understood that visiting was a contest to hold spending to some reasonable level. Hold the line on spending like you might hold a squirming animal. A greased pig, maybe. It wasn’t easy.

So I didn’t mourn Toys R Us particularly. The location we visited closed with all the rest and the building stood vacant for a good many years afterward, which was unusual on this busy main thoroughfare in the northwest suburbs. Last year, a sign appeared in front of the former toy store explaining that a grocery store was coming soon.

Here it is.

Not just any grocery store, but Joong Boo, a Korean store. We visited last Friday, during the store’s first week of operation. The fourth location of a Chicago-based chain, it’s clearly a rising competitor to the larger Korean chain, H-Mart, which not long ago expanded its store within a mile or so of the new Joong Boo. So new that the location isn’t, as of today, listed on the Joong Boo web site.

Nice redesign inside, not a hint of its former use. Artful light bars overhead. Hope they’re energy efficient.

The place was crowded. In its first week anyway, it’s a hit.

One thing that H-Mart taught me is about the endless variety (I exaggerate: the impressive variety) of fresh seafood offered by a Korean supermarket, at least here in North America. Three samples from a much larger selection:

Something I didn’t expect.

I bought one. Not because I’m going to eat it soon, though I might sometime, but to help keep the Spam Museum open (which, I see, is in a newish location). Yuriko bought more healthful items to prepare for our table. For her, the store represents economy: many of the same or similar items than at the local Japanese supermarket, but at a better price. That doesn’t keep her away from the Japanese store completely – it is, after all, the Japanese store — just sometimes.

Another reason to wander a Korean grocery store – or any store, really – is to be on the lookout for brands that aren’t creatures of the U.S. food industry, but maybe some other country’s food conglomerates. Or just third-string or otherwise unusual brands, such as Argentine frosted flakes.

A South Korean beer, Terra.

That counts as the creature of the South Korean food industry, since it’s an export made by Hite Brewery Co., the largest beer maker in that country. Look at the bottle and you learn it’s a Czech-style Korean lager using Australian malt.

Speaking of creatures.

He seems to be the mascot of Jinro, which, as a unit of Hite since 2006, is the world’s largest maker of soju. In English, anyway, he’s referred to as a toad, and man, you can get a lot of Jinro merch.

Frozen K-Food

We’ve all heard of K-Pop, even if we pay it no mind. Go to a Korean grocery store here in the northwest suburbs, and you’ll be aware of K-Food. Frozen K-Food, too.

Convenient and delicious for any occasion, it seems. I didn’t do a comprehensive look-see at the Frozen K-Food aisles, but did notice a few things. Such as a version of K-corn dogs: mozzarella and fish cake on a stick.k-food

The marvels of globalization never cease. People worry that globalization = homogenization, but I don’t think so.

Korean breakfast links, or anytime sausage? The taste you always wanted? In any case, true to the tradition of cartoon mascots gleeful about the human consumption of their own kind.

This is diversity.

But maybe not quite as much as at first glance, since the maker of Red Baron, Schwan’s, was acquired by South Korean food conglomerate CJ CheilJedang a few years ago. So there you have it: a popular North American convenience food named for a German flying ace owned by a South Korean operation. All there in a frozen food bin.

Durians and jackfruit!

Once only available in Southeast Asia, now in your frozen food aisle. Must be popular in Korea these days, too. Why not? For me, jackfruit brings back fond memories of Thailand. As for durian, that is a fond memory from Malaysia.

Not long after I wandered away from the frozen food, I encountered fresh jackfruit. jackfruit 2024
jackfruit 2024

A Hindenburg-class fruit, it is. More than 20 lbs. of jackfruit for less than $20. I’ll assume that’s a good deal.

Robot on Aisle 7

When I took Ann back to Normal yesterday, I didn’t stop anywhere else in that town. But the last time I was there, we went to a grocery store just off I-55. And who should we meet in one of the aisles? I’d say it was strolling around, but I don’t think inventory robots stroll. Wheel along, maybe. It was puttering along.

That’s Tally, which isn’t precisely new tech, considering that you can easily find an article about the machine from 2016. Then again, maybe the one we saw is a more advanced version or, for all I know, it’s an older one still perfectly fine for its job. Never mind what the tech industry says, tech still has value as long as you find it useful.

“[Tally] can traverse a shop’s aisles for eight to 12 hours on a single charge, counting and checking up to 20,000 individual stock keeping units (SKUs) with greater than 96 percent accuracy,” the PC magazine article reported then.

A robot replacing a human. A human going up and down the aisles for hours holding a electronic wand of some kind. That sounds like the kind of really boring job that robots were going to take in the future, as it was once more optimistically imagined. Were supposed to take.

On the other hand, I asked the check-out clerk about the robot. How long had the store had the robot? She didn’t know, a while. We hate it anyway, she said, but didn’t elaborate.

Bardstown Walkabout

For those who dreamed of a pink Christmas this year, there was this shop window in Bardstown, Kentucky.Bardstown, Kentucky

Not only pink trees, but an entrance with a Fanny Brice sort of greeting.Bardstown, Kentucky
Bardstown, Kentucky

For many years, the building on North Third Street housed Spalding & Sons, a dry goods store founded in the 1850s which later morphed into a small-town department store that finally closed for good only in 2013. A woman’s boutique, Peacock on Third, now occupies the space (the dark building on the right in the picture below).Bardstown, Kentucky

These days a boutique of that kind fits right in on Third, which is Bardstown’s main street. Other nearby specialty shops include At Mary’s gift shop, the Tea Cozy, Shaq & Coco (furniture), Kaden Lake and Cactus Annie’s (both women’s clothes), and Pink Fine Consignments & Boutique and Gnarly Gnick Gnacks; eateries in the vicinity include Bardstown Burger, Cafe Primo, Pat’s Place and the Old Talbott Tavern.

We were out and about in Bardstown on December 29, the second day of our trip, an overcast and moderately chilly day, having driven the 30 miles or so from Louisville that morning. This part of Bardstown caters mostly to visitors, who were few that day, but the street wasn’t completely deserted.

The town has managed to preserve a nice collection of century-and-older buildings that are mostly still in use.Bardstown, Kentucky Bardstown, Kentucky Bardstown, Kentucky

A few ghost signs.Bardstown, Kentucky

A selection of pre-FDIC bank buildings.Bardstown, Kentucky Bardstown, Kentucky

The five-and-dime is also gone.Bardstown, Kentucky

At the junction of Third and another major street, Stephen Foster Avenue – more about him later – is a roundabout, and in the roundabout is the imposing former courthouse, which these days houses the Bardstown Tourist & Convention Commission, the Nelson County Economic Development Agency and the Bardstown Nelson County C-of-C.Bardstown, Kentucky Bardstown, Kentucky

Another relic of the great age of courthouse building in the United States, designed by Mason Maury and completed in 1892. Most of Maury’s work was in Louisville, and in fact he designed Kentucky’s first skyscraper in that city, the Kenyon Building. Sadly, that structure didn’t survive the mid-century purge of old buildings.

At one corner Third and Stephen Foster is a building whose first floor is occupied by a drugstore: Hurst Discount Drugs.Bardstown, Kentucky Bardstown, Kentucky

We happened to be looking for lunch at that moment, and happened to notice that Hurst also includes a lunch counter. How many drugstores have lunch counters any more? How many did even 30 or 40 years ago? We instantly decided to eat there. I did, anyway, since I’m not sure Yuriko appreciated what a rara avis we’d found, but she was game.Bardstown, Kentucky Bardstown, Kentucky

We weren’t the only customers, though everyone else left before we did.Bardstown, Kentucky Bardstown, Kentucky

Speaking of rare birds: only one thing on the menu was more than $10, the double bacon cheese burger deluxe at $10.19. Order deluxe and you get mayo, ketchup, mustard, tomato, lettuce, pickle and grilled onions.

Besides burgers, other options included sandwiches and a few breakfast items. Even better, the flip side of the menu offered an array of ice cream products: scoops, shakes, malts, ice cream sodas, banana splits and sundaes, and floats — black cow (Coke), brown cow (root beer), and orange cow (orange sherbet and Sprite).

I had the more modest cheeseburger deluxe at $7.49, plus a chocolate shake for $6.29. Elevated compared to only a few years ago, certainly, but still reasonable, especially considering that the burger was good and the shake was really good.

A Different Christkindlmarket, But Pretty Similar

Above freezing temps on Friday encouraged us to pay a visit to the Aurora Christkindlmaket, my second such market this year, which is vastly more than most years’ total of zero.

Lights. Artisans. Dark-wood booths evoking Germany. Walking around food. Hot drinks. High prices. Pretty much everything you’d see and experience at the market at Daley Plaza, except you’re in RiverEdge Park along the Fox River.

Adjacent to Hollywood Casino on the Fox is an enormous complex of parking lots, from which a pedestrian bridge crosses the river, opened only a little more than two years ago. A walk across takes you to RiverEdge.Aurora Kriskindlmarket Aurora Kriskindlmarket

Ornaments of the giants mark the way to the market.Aurora Kriskindlmarket

Merchants.Aurora Kriskindlmarket Aurora Kriskindlmarket Aurora Kriskindlmarket

Merchandise.

Swedish joy juice to help get through those near-Arctic Circle wintertime blues?Aurora Kriskindlmarket

Called glögg, but the fine print says non-alcoholic, so I’m not sure that counts. The glögg I got at Ikea some years ago had some kick to it. I didn’t check these bottles too closely, so I’m not even sure it’s Swedish, though a Chicago-area company called Lars Own offers imported goods from Scandinavia – yet its web site is a little vague on its Grandpa Lundquist brand glögg.

Wasn’t Grandpa Lundquist a supporting character on Phyllis? The hard-of-hearing hoot-and-a-half curmudgeon played by a wizened character actor whose career was pretty much simultaneous with talkies? No, I made that up, AI-style.

I didn’t buy any 0.0 glögg anyway. I did buy some praline-filled Ritter Sport, a variety I hadn’t sampled before. It’s good. Of course it is. Yuriko acquired a few ornaments – a few per year, that’s how a mass of Christmas decorations grows. We ate pretzels from a Milwaukee-based bakery, and Ann got hot chocolate in a 0.2-liter mug with scenes of the downtown Christkindlmarket painted on it. Designed in Germany, Made in China, it says.

The similarities between the downtown and Aurora markets are no accident. It’s a seasonally oriented cottage industry.

“The Christkindlmarket Chicago was first conceptualized in 1995 when the German American Chamber of Commerce of the Midwest Inc. (GACC Midwest) was seeking alternative ways to promote bilateral trade between the USA and Germany,” the event web site explains. “Companies from Germany and the Chicago area [participated] in the first Christkindlmarket Chicago in 1996. The market was an instant success and continues to flourish through the work of GACC Midwest’s subsidiary, German American Events LLC.”

Not everything – in fact not a lot of it – is German, or even European. You might call it an international market with North European holiday trappings. It works.

In summer, RiverEdge Park is the setting for concerts and plays. The John C. Dunham Pavilion was familiar, though the last time I was there, temps were high and the entertainment was free Shakespeare.Aurora Kriskindlmarket

The stage control tower, decked out for this time of the year.Aurora Kriskindlmarket

Heard as we were leaving, passing by two people entering:

“So that’s what it’s called? All this time I thought it was the Kris Kringle Market.” (laughs)