Walmart.

As a preface, I understand that the following makes me sound like a snob and/or yuppie and/or urban elitist. And, maybe I am, I don't know. I just know that they don't have Walmart in Chicago, at least not until you get to the very-very edge of it.

I'm currently in Colorado, playing Florence Nightingale as my mom recovers from neck surgery. One of my tasks for today was to go to the store to get some things. Unfortunately, the store involved was Walmart. I don't remember the last time I was in a Walmart but I can say that they have become super-sized. Walmart and Costco and the like might be the reason that the terrorists hate us. I felt like a stranger in a strange land. The people. The clothes. The people. The amount of stuff. The people. The people. The people.

The second runner-up as best part about this was the glee my mom took in sending me to "go be like everyone else in the country and shop at Walmart. The third runner-up was the amount of distaste my grandmother expressed for Walmart when I told her about the trip. Apple seemed to skip a generation on falling from that tree. Obviously, the best part was crossing something off the list of things to be done for my dad. Even with three good things having come from the trip, I'm in no hurry to go back to Walmart.