The Mall

There’s just something about the mall. Something about the neon signs, something about the perfectly set up display windows, something about the smell of new clothes. The mall just has a certain vibrance that makes us madly dash through it’s doors and hallways. But do we ever stop and really look at it? Are we all in such a hurry that we miss the subtle essence of the mall- the people inside?

All around me people are walking, sitting, talking, eating, with shopping bags hooked onto their arms. Mothers with sons, husbands with wives, teenagers with their friends; all here with the same purpose- to shop. They are the life blood of the mall.

I’ve decided to observe this life blood. The shoppers and the workers. I’ve chosen the food court as my perch. The most people are gathered here and from this point I can see down the longest corridor.

The smell of food from several different restaurants mingles with the cleaning solution. Not all the that appetizing but I haven’t eaten all day. Chicken is being grilled, teriyaki sauce wafts over persuading me to try a sample. As people rush by I can smell the warm cookies and scorching cups of coffee in their hands. I can scarcely smell freshly baked bread from Subway. It’s calling me.

I walk to the counter and decide on one of their personal pan pizzas. I take my place in line behind a middle aged couple and the woman’s mother. The mother is apparently hard of hearing because her daughter speaks to her rather loudly and slowly. The daughter turns to me and asks, “Do you know what you want? We might take awhile so you could go ahead of us if you’d like.”

“Oh no, I’m in no hurry. Take your time.” I replied. While I wait, I watch the frail, elderly woman focus her eyes on the lighted menu board. Her daughter appears to be in a hurry, she begins reading the menu to her mother in a loud, apprehensive tone. The mother decides on a turkey breast sandwich and very slowly decides on her toppings. By the sound of the worker’s voice, I can tell she’s getting a little impatient as well. I can’t exactly blame her, it’s around noon so the food court is very busy.

I sit down with my pizza and begin watching. A family is walking towards my table. The daughter and son are teenagers, probably about fifteen or sixteen. The girl has shopping bags from American Eagle, The Buckle, and Aeropostal; more than the boy who has a lonely Steve and Barry’s bag. Not a big surprise. They look very embarrassed to be seen with their parents. Two sets of identically blue eyes are darting around the mall to make sure non of their friends are around.

I remember those days. My sister was way worse than I was though. On Sundays we would go out to eat. My sister hated it. She was scared to death her friends would see her and think she was lame for hanging out with her family. My parents would always say, “They know you have parents.” She would even duck in the car when we’d drive through town. To make her mad, my parents would drive as slow as possible.

“Cheeseburger no pickles,” brings me out of my thoughts. Several fast food places are busily making food. I can hear the clang of spatulas hitting grills, the stressed out voices of those making food. Large, burly security guards are walking by. They look at me, stare in fact. Their walkie-talkies mumble some type of order. They turn around and leave. Maybe someone is stealing something. I know some people who have shoplifted. Some on purpose, some on accident.

One of my friends actually stole a water purifier from Walmart. In the self checkout lane he put a pack of gum over the bar code so it read the price of the gum instead of the purifier. The employees saw him pass the purifier over the scanner but he only paid for the gum. He feels horrible now. Now there are no self checkouts in the Walmart on twenty-seventh street. Too many people have discovered the trick.

A mop bucket rolls by, I notice a janitor I’ve seen many times. She’s been here for years. She takes her job very seriously. She cleans off the tables before the person dining has time to finish their last bite. She watches me like a hawk. I’m sure she wonders why I’m sitting here writing in a notebook. In fact, lots of people are staring at me. I guess it is a little weird that I’m sitting here writing in a notebook.

I glance around the mall and see a guy with spiky hair and a pink striped shirt skipping in place. Why was he skipping? You may ask. Well I can’t tell you for sure. Perhaps he was bored. Perhaps he was meeting someone in person for the first time and said, “You’ll know me because I’ll be the one wearing a pink shirt and skipping,” maybe he just likes to skip.

I sit for awhile longer, watching people in business suits scurry by on their lunch break. Maybe they have to get little Suzy a Halloween costume, maybe Johnnie needs new shoes, maybe Sally needs a skirt for a fall concert. They fit these things into their busy schedules, they could be at a nice restaurant eating a delicious meal for their break; but no, they grab a granola bar out of the vending machine and shop for others.

The mall is filled with people of different shapes, sizes, and colors. They all have a different reason for being there, but unite to give the mall life and vibrance. No, it’s not the neon signs, display windows, or new clothes that gives the mall it’s essence; it’s the people inside.

Senator Chambers

Senator Ernie Chambers took out a lawsuit against God. He claims God has made terroristic threats, caused mass murders, and laughed about all the mayhem he’s committed. Chambers claims the reason for the lawsuit is to show that anyone can take out a lawsuit on anyone else no matter how ridiculous the claim. I think he made his point.

Chambers has done some crazy things but I think this tops it all. How is God supposed to pay whatever the court may reward him? How is God supposed to hire a lawyer? How is anyone supposed to subpoena God? I think Chambers could have picked an easier target to make his point.

He is right about ridiculous lawsuits though. Like the girl who sued McDonalds for becoming obese. Lately people have been suing over any and every wrong doing. No one wants to take responsibility for their own actions. No, it couldn’t be my fault for eating at McDonalds three meals a day every day, it must be Micky D’s fault for putting too much sugar in their food.

I think lately in our society people are too quick to blame others. None of us wants anything to be our fault. Gone are the days where the “buck stops here”. However outrageous Chambers’ lawsuit is it has made us stop and think. Yes, suing God is pretty ridiculous, but then again so is suing a lawyer for using the word rape in a trial. If not at God, where will it end?

B Dubb's

As soon as I step through the door I’m hit with the amazing aroma of honey mustard, parmesan, garlic, teriyaki, chicken, and spiced potato wedges. Mmm, tonight’s going to be a good night. TV’s of every shape and size line the walls broadcasting every sport imaginable. People are sitting at their tables and the low rabble of their voices drowns out the sounds of the various pop songs playing over the speakers.

We walk right by the hostess, some of our friends are already here. We zig-zag through tables, booths, and waitresses picking up bits of conversations here and there. Finally, towards the back we see our group. A hand goes up signaling our seats. Everyone else has already ordered, we’re a little late. I slide into the cushy booth right next to my friend.

We signal the waitress, there’s no need to look at a menu; you’d have to be stupid not to order 40 cent wings on wing night. We put in our orders and now we wait. Since we’re a large group I know I won’t be eating in the very near future so I settle in and start people watching. A stocky man resembling George Castanza from Seinfeld walks by carrying a plump baby dressed in pink. I notice a couple on what appears to be their first date. Both fidget a bit in their seat and dart their eyes around the room. Both smile a lot and I can scarcely hear nervous laughter. All I could think of was how incredibly difficult it is to look attractive while eating chicken wings.

Finally, our wings arrive. I pick up one slimy little wing with the utmost care (in the beginning I always try to keep my fingers clean but in the end it doesn’t matter). I jut my teeth out as far as they’ll go trying not to get any sauce on my face. I peel off a crunchy layer of skin. The taste of parmesan garlic explodes into my mouth. One of the best combinations I’ve ever had. I love wing night at Buffalo Wild Wings.

Walmart

Walmart is the source for quite a bit of controversy for a lot of people. There are two types of people, those who love Walmart and those who hate it. There isn’t much of an in between. Those who love it adore their “always low prices” and the convenience of having a supermarket, pharmacy, and department store all under one roof. The frequent buy one get one deals and toys on every shelf appeal to busy, stressed out moms who desperately need to get their errands done before Jr. gets cranky. They are open around the clock just in case little Sally gets a sore throat around 1 AM or you get a hankering for Reese’s Peanut Buttercup Ice Cream at 11 PM.

Then there are those who hate Walmart. When a Super Walmart goes up, small businesses go down taking there service with a smile with them. The little guy can’t compete with Walmart’s prices and eventually has to close up shop and become a greeter for the very company that ran them out of business. By rolling back prices they roll over the competition slowly building their monopoly on the backs of Mom and Pop shops across America.

I say, there are both up and downsides to this tyrannical monster. I would love to protest Walmart, speak out about what they’re doing to family owned grocery stores, pharmacies, and clothing boutiques. I am; however, a college student. I appreciate the low prices and around the clock service. I realize I’m feeding the beast and I fear someday the beast will eliminate the rest of the competition and drive up prices higher than we’ve seen them before. In the meantime; however, I’m going to get my shampoo, Cheetos, Mountain Dew, Tylenol, and flip-flops all at the same store because it’s so gosh darn convenient.

Article Response

I chose the article titled “Fairbury police arrest 20-year-old in slashing” because Fairbury is relatively close to my hometown. My mom grew up 15 miles from there and attended high school in Fairbury. Both my parents attended Fairbury Junior College and my cousins now go to middle school and high school in Fairbury. In fact I was just there this past weekend.

From what my parents have told me, Fairbury used to be a quiet, peaceful town. The biggest case of crime and vandalism was when my mom stole a hen from a local chicken farm, snuck it into the movie theater, and let it go half-way through the movie. However, this has all changed. Meth labs have sprung up all over town bringing in paranoid junkies who will steal, kill, and destroy property while they’re high.

I’m not saying the Meth addicts are the only ones doing any crime, I’m sure there are some very docile junkies. However, the rise in crime of some Meth addicts has almost opened a door to everyone ever considering breaking the law. It’s almost become the norm in Fairbury. In the past three years I can remember two murders and many thefts in and around Fairbury. This is no where near the crime rate in larger cities but for a relatively small town like Fairbury it’s outrageous. It hasn’t gotten to the point where it’s unsafe to walk the streets along at night but it’s steadily becoming more unnerving.

It makes me somewhat nervous for my cousins who go to school in Fairbury. I wonder if they’ll fall into a group of friends that will decide it’s cool to steal stuff. Maybe they’ll be pressured into trying Meth or maybe someone tripped out on Meth will decide to hurt them in some way. Who knows? Maybe the crime rate will drop and I won’t have to worry about it. Let’s hope.