After that last ruminative post about Trader Joe's, which prompted some hollering and arugula throwing around the Metroland offices, we felt it best to cool our heels for a bit. And were getting good and ready to smack this blog sensate when a Minivan screeched to a stop in the parking lot and out tumbled a family that resembled in every respect the stick-figure approximations applied as decalcomania to the van's rear window.
"Look! Look!" cried Suburban Dad, clutching a copy of a local business journal. "Trader Joe's is coming! We never wanted that Office Max anyway!"
"I've never really been able to make the best feeding decisions for my family," his missus added, cinching a little tighter the cashmere sweater tied around her waist. "I love it that, as I'm forced by hungry crowds through the store's skinny aisles, I can grab all-in-one meals fully thought out by -- does Joe himself do the choosing?"
"Plus they have piles of sweetened stuff that we can pretend isn't candy in prominent point-of-purchase locations!" cried little Shenendoah, his or her mouth a rictus of dried carob.
"And, unlike parent company Aldi, you don't have to rent your shopping carts!" added the toddler. "Plus they have less-creepy-sounding made-up brand names!"
We know what this kind of excitement is like. We read an Orlando Weekly writer's promise to drive 200 miles when a Trader Joe's opens sorta nearby. And so it will be, with open mind and a good-sized, hemp-spun shopping basket, we shall explore this new testament to Albany's upscaleishness. Although we were holding out for a Stew Leonard's.
-- B. A. Nilsson
