RIP

bears forget their manners
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

Stan Berenstain, author of a zillion books read and loved by the Waskom family, died last Saturday at age 82.

During the late 80's, when my sister was little, I probably had all of these books memorized. We read them so often.

The Post article is a nice one. I was surprised, though, to read that Charles Krauthammer thought Papa Berenstain was "wimpy" and emasculating. Obviously not so emasculating that the books changed the caveman-like attitudes of the Waskom males...

Very sad. But the books are timeless.

The Good Writer

Today's Washington Post includes an interview with Alexander McCall Smith, the Scottish author of the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency series of books (among other things). His books are some of the few that I consistently read straight through, with no jumps to read the end, and based on the personality that comes through in the interview, I (and millions of other people) couldn't be reading a nicer man's work.

His books are easy to read, clearly written, and somewhat light, though they're not fluffy. They don't have intense action or a fast pace, but they do have extremely likable, easygoing characters. Thematically, the books focus on morales, on understanding what's right in murky situations. They're not exactly morality tales, however. The characters, for all of their good points, are flawed.

I've always gotten the sense, in reading, that McCall Smith is philosophically interested in questions of morality and ethics, and that as he writes, he's thinking through his positions. In the interview, he confirms this, saying he's always been interested in applied ethics (the field of the heroine of his Sunday Philosophy Club series, and a not-very-disguised theme in his other books). He also says, of writing, that much of it "is a response to some personal sense of loss and separation," though it sounds as though he tries not to delve too deep into himself, partially because he wants to keep writing - and if he resolves his problems, he might lose his creative edge.

I've developed a mental picture of McCall Smith as a likable, hardworking, jolly sort of man. I can't say I'm not a little jealous, though - he seems to be a totally unself-conscious writer, one who can just sit down and write without all the second guessing that usually goes into the process. Like a blogger, I suppose, but a blogger who's sold zillions of books all over the world.

Bitterness & Guilt in My Quiet Suburban Life

I have a Body Flow* nemesis. We've never spoken (neither one of us talks much at the gym) but there is something about her that totally rubs me the wrong way. It's some combination of the competitive glare she assumes during the class (she watches everyone out of the corner of her eye), the way she overextends on certain stretches (show-off), and that I once saw her park her fancy Mercedes in between two parking spaces in the (very small) parking lot. I hate that.

When she put her mat down next to mine this morning, I'm sure everyone could see my disappointment and annoyance -she'd be watching me, comparing, for the whole class. I braced myself.

And then, I noticed it. She's missing a toe - the fourth toe on her right foot. Which is just great. The shame of my uncharitable thoughts is washing over me.


*Body Flow is the yoga/tai chi/Pilates class I take on Mondays and Thursdays. Theoretically, it makes me a better, calmer person. In reality, there's a chance I'm a little more flexible and have better balance as a result, but obviously I'm missing some of it's mind/body benefits.

Holidays and Milestones

It was a big weekend for the Pollard-Waskom family. Though Cooper and I showed our age by choosing not to go anywhere near any bars on Thanksgiving Eve, we more than proved that we're still social the night after Thanksgiving, when my sister and brother and his girlfriend came to Towson. It was a fairly typical night - we met Alicia and Mike and Owen and Megan at the wine bar, had snacks and drinks, then retired to Alicia and Mike's house to play with their iPod and break things.

Saturday wasn't easy for anyone, I don't think. I eased my headache by sitting on the sofa, watching ten straight episodes of My Super Sweet 16. I still think VH1 should do a similar show about 30th birthdays.

Speaking of thirtieth birthdays, we spent last night at the Spy Club celebrating my friend Mandy's. Despite the sometimes oppressive heat, we had a good time - it was a cool space and we got to hang out with a bunch of Severna Park friends we don't see all the time. I especially enjoyed the super geeky part of the night, when Paul and Ryan and I used Paul's PDA to show each other our web sites. There was some mocking of us by others. I suppose that's understandable.

Now that Thanksgiving and Mandy's birthday are behind us, we're officially into Christmas and Kit & Cooper's Birthday Season (Mandy's birthday is exactly one month before mine, so it's arrival sends me into high alert every year.) Generally, this season brings me the usual joy, along with the also usual elevated levels of stress and panic that I've gotten one year older. We'll see how that goes this year. Maybe turning thirty will be a turning point for me. Or maybe I'll cry all month.

Hoping, obviously, for the former.

Silly Borat

I find the whole Kazakhstan-suing-Ali G thing pretty hilarious. Borat is definitely my favorite character (and is definitely Cooper's favorite), and assuming that Sascha Baron Cohen doesn't actually lose the lawsuit, this can only be a good thing for the fans.

The Duty to Suggest Behavior

So says Renzo Piano, the architect made famous by his role in the design of Paris' Pompidou Centre, of the discipline of architecture itself.

In an interview with the Guardian, Piano touches on the role architecture plays in the Paris riots. While he acknowledges that architecture alone is not enough to solve social problems, he suggests that the creation of the ghetto bears some responsibility for the disenfranchisement of Paris' upset minorities.

Piano barely touches on what this means for America, but that's an interesting question, especially considering the recent rise of the exurb. American suburbs and exerbs aren't usually built around town centers, but Piano's theory suggests that they really should be.

Towson provides a good case study. It's a suburb of Baltimore, yes, but also very, very close to the city, and a college town in it's own right. It's also aging and has felt commercial strain. Development Design Group, a Baltimore-based architecture firm with a ton of cred in urban redevelopment has the task of updating the Towson circle area, the core of the town center.

It'll be interesting to see how DDG applies principles of urban redevelopment to a suburban community. I'd like to see that happen with new building, too, in areas that are just slated for development.

From what I've read, many of the people who are interested in both social policy and architecture focus their efforts in redevelopment. But it definitely seems as though there are opportunities to branch out and help new developers do things right the first time.

Craziness

The Italian Art and Psychology Association has conducted a year-long study to understand the emotional and physiological impact viewing Michelangelo's David has on some viewers. Apparently some people are so overcome by the great work of art that they feel dizzy or faint, or might even be vulnerable to panic attacks or "temporary bouts of madness."

The agony and the ecstasy, indeed.

Breaking Local News

The cover story in the Towson Times this week is on a schoolteacher who irons to relax. Seriously.

I guess I'm glad I live somewhere that doesn't have more pressing news.

Just Heard

"Photograph" by Nickelback. I'd never actually listened to the words before (or to the whole song, for that matter.) It sounds an awful lot like something I would write on this blog. Something I would've written last Wednesday, to be more specific.

And, with that, I realized just how truly, unironically cheesy I am.

But, Mama, That's Where the Fun Is

You know that scene at the end of TV shows, where the young heroine drives off, towards her new life, with a deeply meaning-charged song playing in the background? Of course you do, not only did you just see it at the end of Laguna Beach, you also saw it last summer on the final episode of Six Feet Under.

Well, today, I lived it. On my way down to Annapolis today, to get my hair cut, I spent a lot of time thinking about - what else? - myself. During one particularly boring stretch of the drive, I reminisced with myself about all the great times I've had in my twenties: the days I lived in Canton; the six months before my brother left for law school; the amazing view I had from the roof of my last place in Annapolis; the list went on and on.

Lost in my reverie, I barely noticed the radio until, magically, I snapped back to the dulcet tones of Manfred Mann’s “Blinded by the Light.” For the next few miles, I continued on in my daydream, self-consciously laughing about that music as the theme song for my twenties.

After my haircut, I hopped back in the car, looking for a similar song to start my drive back home. Unfortunately, I found nothing. Instead, I found myself remembering the most random moments, all made personal and, somehow private, by songs.

…a few days before leaving for college, sitting at the Ben Oaks beach with my friends, listening to Love Rescue Me on someone’s car stereo…staring at my stereo play Losing My Religion just like Brenda did after she and Dylan broke up...dancing on a chair to Nelly’s Ride With Me (sorry - Ride WIT me) in a club in London’s Soho…dancing on another chair to Living on a Prayer on New Year’s Eve 1999/2000 and watching my friend Bill take a tumble that, we learned later, broke his collarbone…being in the middle of a thousand hippies jumping up and down to Bouncing around the Room at a Phish show in 1994…playing Anna Begins and So Cruel over and over again at parties my first summer home from college…singing Filter’s Take a Picture on the steps of a house in Canton with my friends from Europe, just after the trip…waiting for the mix CD to play Beast of Burden on Sunday nights with Alison, sitting at the front bar at Claddagh’s…blasting Chemical Brothers in my brother’s car after a Widespread concert…hearing Me & Bobby McGee at my wedding reception, just like I’d imagined since I was little…

I have so many more memories exactly like that, from the time I was a very little girl all the way up through today. Compared to a lot of people I know, I’m not very into music. I don’t know a lot about it, and I don’t really care that I don’t know much. In fact, I’d rather not know a lot. Why would I want to replace what I have – completely emotional memories – with a bunch of knowledge? The second I break music down into facts, or that I start wanting to know what’s new first, that’s when music would stop being purely emotional for me. And purely enjoyable.

P.S. I know the Phish and Widespread references make me sound like a hippie. Honestly, I never even really went through a preppy hippie phase. I just hung out with people who did. People like my brother.

More Celebration

Now that I have the long, involved, "why I blog" post off my shoulders, it's time for a little blog-birthday celebration: an announcement.

As I just mentioned, the days of the daily book topic have gone by the wayside. But that doesn't mean I've completely given up the dream of writing for a living. That dream has just shifted. As I've chronicled here, over the past six or so months, I've become nearly obsessed with food writing. So obsessed that I decided that, when I grow up, I want to write about food.

So, naturally, I did what I know best: I started a blog. Now, here comes the full disclosure: starting blogs is really easy, and it is sort of addictive. Kind of like getting tatoos, or so I hear. Just open up the Blogger Dashboard, click on "new blog" and you're nearly there. I've done it more times than I care to admit.

Fortunately, Blogger also has a "delete blog" button, for the blogs that never make it past three posts.

This time, though, was different. I've been writing Mango & Ginger for over two months; it has become a part of my routine. I still like it, even though it's lost it's new blog sheen.

So, there it is. My new, food-related blog. I write about food I cook, food I eat, food I read about, whatever, as long as it's somewhat food related. Hope you all enjoy.

Today

(Warning: This is a long, self-involved post.)

It's a big day for me: the first birthday of this blog.

That's right, it all started, right here, exactly a year ago. November 15, 2004, I read the internet (for hours), aimlessly. November 16th, I had a purpose. I was a blogger.

Rereading my first post makes me laugh. I went on, at length, about my "book topic du jour." Ah, I remember those days. When I thought I was going to write a book. I really did have a new idea every three or four days. Not so much anymore. Apparently blogging has sucked that out of me. Or, probably more likely, has helped me run through my interest in all those fleeting ideas a lot more efficiently.

As I've mentioned before, I'm prone to self-analysis, especially around birthdays and anniversaries (which, for those of you who have celebrated a birthday with me, is why I cry.) This week has been pretty much par for the course in that arena: no tears, but a lot of self-absorption.

One of the reasons why I started this blog was to get a better understanding of what interests me, and how I think about things. And apparently the answer to that is twofold: Laguna Beach and red wine. Kidding. Sort of.

This week, I've been thinking a lot about, well, me. What I like to write, what I do write, what I want to write. I often think about a conversation I had a few years ago, with a high school friend of my brother’s. He’s a writer (the kind who gets paid) and there’s little I enjoy more than talking about writing with people who write. In the course of a long, involved discussion of the writer’s life, I crossed over into the land of extreme egotism, explaining that I just knew, deep down, that I had to write something major. It was my destiny. In the same breath, I told him that my biggest fear was waking up one day with a Volvo, country club membership, and no book. This was four and a half years ago.

Last week, the conversation came back to me, all in a flash. A flash that occurred while I was sitting in my Volvo station wagon, outside the gym, reaching into the back to grab my yoga mat at 9:30 on a Monday morning: I have become my nightmare.

Later that day, reading my afternoon blogs, it occurred to me that it wouldn’t be that hard to write a blog that evolved into a book. I read Clublife, Opinionistas, Mimi in NY. They each have a unique voice and perspective, but they also each follow the book deal formula: position yourself as an outsider, expose your surroundings. Think like an anthropologist. Exoticize. I could totally do the same, but with the quiet suburban life I lead. Chick-lit agents would come calling.

Except that I don’t want to. And in recognizing that, I also realized that I haven’t fallen into my nightmare situation, as described in early 2001. I’ve walked into it, consciously, by choice. And it’s not really so bad.

Plus, I might not have a book deal, and I might not be profiled in the New York Times, but that wasn’t why I started this blog in the first place. So I’ll continue to write about Laguna Beach, and the Poconos, and whatever I come across on the internet. And I’ll be happy with that.

Plus, going to the gym in the middle of the day is pretty sweet. And Volvos are nice, too.

Of Course I Like Harry Potter

I'm a libertarian.

This heavily-footnoted Michigan Law Review article by Benjamin Barton (I found it at Instapundit) convinces me that Harry Potter is a libertarian. Of course, I'm inclined to believe that anyway, as I'd like to think that I have something in common with a smart, brave wizard. I don't think it's all my self-involvement, though.

Barton's article is well-researched: not only did he reread all the HP books with an eye Rowling's depiction of government, his argument is solidly backed by texts about libertarianism. His conclusion, "that Rowling may do more for libertarianism than anyone since John Stuart Mill," seems overwhelmingly logical, considering the strength of his argument...and the strength of her market share.

As a side note, my admiration for JK Rowling knows pretty much no bounds at this point. Not only has she written an interesting, engaging story, she's elevated the level of complexity in kids books (the fact that she respects kids as readers is fantastic) and she's created a world and a story that serves as a seemingly endless source of analysis. I've read numerous articles discussing the social and political characteristics of the wizarding world, exploring connections to our world, looking for answers, reasons, clues. I can imagine future dissertations on the subject: comparing HP to the current geopolitical situation in two years, ten, or fifty.

Truly, truly amazing.

Thoughts on Laguna

1. The finale was...eh. I know it's bittersweet to leave your friends and family, take the next step, whatever, but really. Most of these kids just moved to LA. Not exactly far from each other, or far from Laguna.

2. We're supposed to get misty at the Ste-phen and Kristin montage? I'm pretty sure that she wasn't thinking about Stephen while she was wistfully staring at the water. They've been so over for so long. And they're moving to the same city. Maybe I could find that scene a tiny bit believable if I didn't know that Stephen did or did not hook up with Paris and Kristin's dating Brody Jenner. But I do, so I don't.

3. I hate Alex M.'s stripper nails.

4. I predict that season three will sputter and die. The cast just doesn't seem pretty enough. Or, more accurately, the girls in the cast just don't seem pretty enough. They don't have that California girl, all-American look. They look hard. Like Jenna Jameson. And I don't mean that in a good way.

5. However, I also predict that LC's spinoff will be fantastic. After two seasons of LBHS, maybe I'm ready to move on, just like she is. I think it has potential. And maybe we'll find out what's going on with Jason. Where was he in this episode? I guess that's what happens when you finish editing several months before the show airs.

6. And, finally, where is Kristin's spinoff? I might be Team LC, but I know who makes good TV. And Kristin does.

Overall, I'm sad the season is over. I really am. But I'm also feeling like Liz Gately let me down a little. Guess I'll just have to hold out until The Hills premieres this spring.

The Universal "My Generation"

Today, the WaPo reports on a new "phenomenon": high school kids who are into classic rock. Specifically, the author talks with a bunch of music dorks at TJ (a magnet school in northern VA) who have started a "classic rock club" (leave it to the dorky kids to find a way to turn any hobby into something to write on a college application.)

The article is interesting, especially in that it touches on the role of radio and music downloads in kids' newfound interest in classic rock, though it doesn't reveal anything particularly surprising. And I'm happy to read that there is interest in classic rock among high school kids. When my sister was in high school, none of her friends were into that type of music at all.

But it what world is it "new" that high school kids discover classic rock? I was in high school during the high grunge years, yet my mix tapes are dominated by Zeppelin, Creedence and the Who. I've always thought that classic rock is kind of like sex: every generation likes to think they invent it, though it is, by it's very nature, old.

UPDATE: A lot of Stereogum's commenters agree with me. And I agree with a lot of them. Except for all the blabbing about Death Cab vs. Zeppelin. I am so wholely uninterested in mainstream indie rock (boring!) that I wouldn't know a DCFC song if it hit me in the face while I was watching the OC. Which I don't actually watch, though, given my other interests, I probably should.

Silverman Worship

Slate is all over Sarah Silverman today, with three front-page articles about her, her humor and her new movie.

a) I love Sarah Silverman - I think she's hilarious. And I do think she's thin. And,
b) I'm all for dissection and analysis.

But...as sort of interesting as it can be to read about the social drivers of pop culture, is there anything more tired and boring and unfunny than reading about why comedians are funny/relevant/etc.? Especially for, like, the fifth time in a month? Slate's a little behind in these articles. They're not going to do better than the New Yorker did a few weeks ago. I'm not sure I would've tried.

And maybe it's just me, but every time I read about how Silverman pushes the edge of what's acceptable in humor, about just how offensive she is, I can't help but think that most journalists live awfully sheltered lives. Yes, she is very funny and yes, she's pretty enough to make it OK to laugh at racist jokes. But she's not that hardcore. She's not saying things other people don't say. What's interesting about Sarah Silverman is not that she says those things, or even that she says them with such a straight face. It's that she says those things on TV.

What I want to know is: where's the article that compares her to Eminem? That seems, to me, highly apt. A harmless looking public figure with a dirty mouth, who's willing to say things in public that most people would only say to their friends.

Seriously, not to take anything away from Sarah Silverman. I really do think she's hilarious. But I've read one too many of the same article this month.

"Maybe if you don't spend time journaling (or blogging?) you have more time to gain experience."

So says Richard Lawrence Cohen, in the comments section of a post on reading old journals, and starting new ones.

When I travel, I take a lot of notes (over 90 pages on my first trip to Europe and 80 pages on my honeymoon). I'm a note-taker, though, and I've never felt like my experience was limited or diminished because of the notes I took. In fact, for me, it's just the opposite. I remember SO much more of my honeymoon because I wrote it all down. And since I took notes during Cooper's nap times, I don't think I missed out on any experience-having.

I also love reading old journals, though. I'm sure I've mentioned here before that a few years ago, I spent a very emotional and embarrassed few weeks rereading my high school diaries (I was writing a book proposal - that went nowhere - based on them).

Anyway. This navel-gazing is a long-winded way of announcing what is sure to be a very navel-gazey week. This Wednesday happens to be this blog's first birthday.

I'm pretty into birthdays and anniversaries, and this one is no different. So I'll apologize in advance for all of the self-involved blathering that is likely to go on here for the next few days. A year's a long time, though, so I feel a little entitled.

And I promise I'll go back to not really posting, or only posting about Laguna (FINALE TONIGHT!) as soon as the week is over.

Things I Love about the Poconos

pocs outside
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

"We have such a great life."

Saturday morning I took an hour-long walk around the lake at Skytop Lodge with Sarah, Amy and Gretchen. It was nearly 70 degrees and the trees were bright and beautiful - amazing for November. It was almost unnecessary for Sarah to mention how great our lives are: it's so obvious at times like that. Nice, though, to remember not to take it for granted.

I spent the rest of the weekend feeling sappily lucky that I have such great friends and that I get to have weekends like this last one. As I've mentioned here before, the two weekends a year we spend at Sarah's family's cottage in the Pocs are some of my most highly anticipated and favorite.

This weekend, not surprisingly, didn't disappoint. The weather really was perfect, so we did nearly everything outside. While the boys played golf we took our walk, picked up some treats and did a little ethnography of the local color at Wal-Mart. When we all got back home, Sarah and I sat outside and read (I finished this - very entertaining) while Amy baked pumpkin bread and an apple crisp. After some lounging, we had a surprisingly good dinner at a local restaurant, where the entire clientele sang a rousing round of Happy Birthday to Brian (much to our surprise - we started out singing quite quietly, so as not to cause a scene).

We wrapped up the night with a little red wine by our outdoor firepit (one of the best engagement gifts ever). When we retired to our (twin) beds, we got to fall asleep listening to the waterfall, completely relaxed.

Such a great life, indeed. Plus, we talked about Laguna Beach all weekend. LOVE IT.

Real Posting to Follow

I promise that I have not completely forsaken this blog. I've just had a crazy week. Had to buy a new computer on Monday, as our old computer's screen decided not to work anymore. Transferring four years worth of work and pictures and music and other stuff takes a long time. And yesterday, as I was getting ready to start blogging, I got a work-related call...and that always takes precedence.

It was only then that I realized I don't have PowerPoint on my shiny brand new laptop. Wireless, yes, but no PowerPoint. Only the software most important to my work. Needless to say, yesterday was annoying, work-wise. Today, I go buy Office 2003.

And then I blog. For real.

In the meantime, my brother's girlfriend has started a new blog. If you like Laguna...you will really, really like this.

Lbs in the LB

Is it just me, or is Jessica starting to put on her freshman 15 a little early? I don't really have room to talk, as my freshman 15 was, well, definitely more than 15. But I also wasn't on a major TV show...

Purple America

lc and kristin
Originally uploaded by Kit Pollard.

Much has been written about the famous red state/blue state divide. However, not nearly enough ink has been devoted (yet) to an almost equally important debate: LC or Kristin.

Jason or no, I've been a vocal member of Team LC since the beginning. I might have gotten my hair cut to look like Kristin's...but my heart lies with LC.

Unfortunately, I can't say that all my friends share my good taste. Especially the male ones. Doug might be great at emailing LB articles and moderating involved discussions on subjects pertinent to a deep understanding of LB (who does live in the trailer?)...but he's also firmly planted in Kristin's corner.

Fortunately, this weekend we were able to look past our differences, and to focus on what brings us together. A common love and appreciation for the LB, and the light it brings to all of our lives.

P.S. I know that's not a very good picture of me. But didn't I do a nice job making Doug's shirt?

Not Quite Sure What They're Going for Here

This Ad Age article talks about a study on the effects of alcohol advertising that will appear in the January issue of Psychology Science. The study purportedly connects the viewing of images related to alcohol (such as beer bottles) with an enhanced feeling of aggression.

Now, I'm not a psychologist, and I can't claim to have a really strong understanding of how psychologists conduct research. But I am a research analyst and based on that, I think I'm qualified to say that the people doing this study haven't completely thought through their findings.

The study included a couple of different methods and the overall finding was that people connect images of alcohol to aggressive behavior. What the study does not find, however, is that alcohol-related images encourage aggressive behavior. In fact, what it actually finds is that people who already think that alcohol is connected to aggressive behavior are more likely to identify certain behaviors as aggressive after they've looked at pictures of beer bottles.

Ad Age reports on this, and rightly so, because it could, down the road, have an effect on beer and liquor advertising. The researchers say they didn't set out with that intention...but they wouldn't have. Watchdog groups, though, will probably latch onto these findings, though they don't actually deal with alcohol advertising at all.

Lies, damn lies and statistics is right. Research can be a scary, loose thing when it's being used against you.

Family Tree

Last night we had dinner with my parents, grandmother and aunt and uncle visiting from Texas. During dinner, I learned something new about the fam. Apparently, my great-grandfather (mom's dad's dad) has a university named after him. It's a religious school (he was a missionary) and, yes, it's in Nigeria, but still.

My mom's other grandfather was a jockey (that part of the family is tiny - all I got from them was my hair color). Number 13. He raised fighting gamecocks after he retired from horse racing.

Colorful family, indeed.

Crossing Over

There's an article about Kristin in Salon today. It's about being a teenager and life lessons and such.

Does this mean that Laguna Beach has crossed over from guilty pleasure into sociological phenomenon? Is it leaving the world of "mentioned in a Chuck Klosterman book" to join with other pop culture dissertation topics? Has it surpassed the influence of Saved by the Bell?

I'm so selfish

I want nearly everything from this store. Especially the Mibo floral lamps...

Lucky

For some reason, on the way home from the store a few minutes ago, I started thinking about how really, really glad I am that blogs were not a part of mainstream culture until fairly recently. Because I am so, so happy that I have no public documentation of my actions between 1996 (when I graduated) and 2001 (when I met Cooper).

Though I also recognize that certain periods - most notably August 2000-September 2001 - would be awfully entertaining reading. The year I spent more time at Claddagh's than at work.

Oh, good times. Good times best kept off the internets.

A Disgrace to Hippies Everywhere

I was just in line behind the rudest, most unfriendly hippie at Trader Joe's. She dropped something, I picked it up to hand it to her, and she just looked at me like I knocked it over and said, "is that mine?" No thank you at all.

Then she was noticeably unfriendly to the cashier, who was a nice older lady. THEN she took the messy sandwich she'd just bought, unwrapped it, and started eating while she was trying to pay. She was so hungry she couldn't wait the 30 seconds until she made it to the parking lot?

Trader Joe's is always full of the crunchy underbelly of northern Baltimore, of course. But usually, they're at least nice, if not perfectly polite. Doesn't it seem like there should be some sort of requirement that if you wear Birkenstocks, you are morally bound to be friendly?