The Case Of A Grocery Store Fix
Stories
Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit
57 Stories For Cycle C
It happened just about every time she went shopping for groceries. The check-out line always did her in. While Doris Watson was waiting her turn in line she could not keep her eyes off the covers of the many magazines placed strategically to capture attention. The covers captured her attention all right. She almost always grabbed one or two magazines off the rack to add to her pile of carefully selected groceries. Buying too many magazines. This was Doris Watson's "grocery store fix."
Doris Watson's "grocery store fix" had been part of her life for years. It was her way of coping with the messages our culture sends to women -- messages which demand perfection: perfect hair, perfect make-up, perfect body and on and on and on.
The covers always reminded Doris of her many imperfections. One day, for example, she saw a cover which announced the latest hairstyles. Hair had been one of her downfalls. She wasn't blessed with beautiful hair. Keeping her hair looking decent took lots of work. Even though she wasn't always sure that the time she spent on her hair did the trick. Her husband certainly never seemed to notice unless the change in style was pretty marked. Doris took his indifference to mean a certain lack of perfection. She would have to try again. She was always on the lookout, therefore, for the latest word on hairstyle. When a magazine cover seemed to promise that the new styles were the best ever she bought it every time. Someday, perhaps, she would get it right.
And it wasn't just hairstyle that made Doris Watson anxious about her imperfections. Weight. That was always a problem. She always seemed to be at least five to ten pounds overweight. She saw all those perfect bodies on television and knew that she did not measure up. But what to do? How to lose weight? Goodness knows she had tried. The magazines raced to fill this gap as well. During the course of the year just about every magazine she spotted in the check-out line had a new dieting plan to follow. Doris Watson nervously bought them all. One of these weight reduction programs had to work. When it did she would have a body beautiful to behold.
Romance was another area in which Doris Watson succumbed to her "grocery store fix." The headlines constantly announced "Six Ways To Rekindle The Flame," "What To Do When The Love Seems Gone" and many other intriguing titles. She bought just about every one of those magazines. It wasn't that her marriage was all that bad necessarily. But it wasn't perfect and the message of the magazines was that it should be perfect and that it could be perfect. The magazine's demand for perfection always made her just a little bit tense. Maybe this time she would get it right.
Doris' husband made fun of her "grocery store fix." Once he really let fly at her. "You don't really expect these magazine articles to help anything do you," he would rail. "They're just trying to make a buck and they're making lots of them with you."
"Okay!" Doris would say. And she meant it. Somewhere deep inside herself she knew that her husband was probably right. But her resolve seldom worked. The next time she was in the grocery story those magazine covers would once again play on her insecurities. Such anxiety can prolong a "grocery store fix" for a long, long time.
Doris Watson's "grocery store fix" had been part of her life for years. It was her way of coping with the messages our culture sends to women -- messages which demand perfection: perfect hair, perfect make-up, perfect body and on and on and on.
The covers always reminded Doris of her many imperfections. One day, for example, she saw a cover which announced the latest hairstyles. Hair had been one of her downfalls. She wasn't blessed with beautiful hair. Keeping her hair looking decent took lots of work. Even though she wasn't always sure that the time she spent on her hair did the trick. Her husband certainly never seemed to notice unless the change in style was pretty marked. Doris took his indifference to mean a certain lack of perfection. She would have to try again. She was always on the lookout, therefore, for the latest word on hairstyle. When a magazine cover seemed to promise that the new styles were the best ever she bought it every time. Someday, perhaps, she would get it right.
And it wasn't just hairstyle that made Doris Watson anxious about her imperfections. Weight. That was always a problem. She always seemed to be at least five to ten pounds overweight. She saw all those perfect bodies on television and knew that she did not measure up. But what to do? How to lose weight? Goodness knows she had tried. The magazines raced to fill this gap as well. During the course of the year just about every magazine she spotted in the check-out line had a new dieting plan to follow. Doris Watson nervously bought them all. One of these weight reduction programs had to work. When it did she would have a body beautiful to behold.
Romance was another area in which Doris Watson succumbed to her "grocery store fix." The headlines constantly announced "Six Ways To Rekindle The Flame," "What To Do When The Love Seems Gone" and many other intriguing titles. She bought just about every one of those magazines. It wasn't that her marriage was all that bad necessarily. But it wasn't perfect and the message of the magazines was that it should be perfect and that it could be perfect. The magazine's demand for perfection always made her just a little bit tense. Maybe this time she would get it right.
Doris' husband made fun of her "grocery store fix." Once he really let fly at her. "You don't really expect these magazine articles to help anything do you," he would rail. "They're just trying to make a buck and they're making lots of them with you."
"Okay!" Doris would say. And she meant it. Somewhere deep inside herself she knew that her husband was probably right. But her resolve seldom worked. The next time she was in the grocery story those magazine covers would once again play on her insecurities. Such anxiety can prolong a "grocery store fix" for a long, long time.
