What's this blog about then...

I am an Englishman living in California, specifically in Los Angeles. My move here was recent enough that everything still seems exciting and new, but long enough ago that I know my SoCal from my NorCal, who Kobe Bryant is, and what to do in an earthquake.

So this blog will be a stream of anecdotes, stories and observations on life in California - through the eyes of an Englishman. Why CalEnglishman? Just because there seems to be a belief here, particularly within government, that putting "Cal" in front of any project or department identifies it with California in a zippy way.

We have 'CalFresh' 'CalBar', 'CalCPA', 'CalGrant', Cal this, Cal that. You may not know that, before California appended its omnipresent prefix, you got fat if you ate too many "ories" and the chemical element "cium" gave you strong bones. So while those facts are not true, I felt that there was only one thing I could call myself in the face of this state-wide consensus.

I am the CalEnglishman. Good to meet you. I hope you will read on.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

A CostCo experience

Entering my local CostCo recently, a family of four was going in ahead of me. There was nothing unusual about them, except that once we were inside the store, I happened to cross paths with them rather a lot – and so was able to observe their CostCo experience close at hand.

As they get inside, the body language changes noticeably. The woman becomes alert and business-like, the man’s shoulders slump in resignation, and the children’s heads turn up in wonderment at the scale of the place. I’ll call the parents Mary and Bob, and the children Billy and Lizzie.

Mary strides off in the direction of the food section. Bob wanders from aisle to aisle, resignation turning to sheer dejection – CostCo is clearly not his thing. He shows a flicker of interest in the laptops, prods at some Calvin Klein boxer shorts and a 7-pack of socks, but then just meanders on hopelessly.

Lizzie finds a demonstration table, where a young man is showing off a high-tech blender that apparently “all the restaurants use”.  Lizzie, who looks about 5, is transfixed by the buzzing and whirring of the blender. It could be hers TODAY for just $349.99, but her pink Barbie wallet stays firmly in her hand.

Billy (8 or so) passes a reflective time in the books section, leafing through a Guinness Book of Records. But then he has a change of mood when he spots a human-sized teddy bear. He finds his father and fervently begs to have the bear. Bob even seems to consider this ridiculous request, like a man who will try anything if it will get him home sooner.

Sense returns in the form of Mary – pushing a cart containing a mountain of food. You can see the work she has put in, balancing her children’s appetites and the capacity of her freezer against CostCo’s bulk quantities. And a little later it is time for them to go – Lizzie emerges from her reverie about the blender, Billy has forgotten about the teddy bear, and Bob rushes out into the sunlight, a boy again.

For my part, I enjoyed my CostCo experience – emerging with huge packs of kitchen towel, toilet roll and other non-perishable items. The vastness of CostCo pack sizes means that I have enough supplies to see me through until about 2015 – so I have a wait until my next visit unfortunately. I can almost hear Bob thinking “If only…”.