Peggy Dover

I remember when shopping was fun.

The very word sparkled on my tongue. Imagining a new outfit was all the excuse I needed to hightail it to the mall. Maybe I’d saved enough for another album to add to the pile. OK, these fancy-free shopping days occurred a few decades ago. But the experience has changed so dramatically over the coon’s ages of my life that I really think it should be an athletic event, and one of lonely endurance — like cross-country.

If you watch classic black-and-white movies, check out the department store shopping experience. Sales clerks wear dresses or suits and ties and make a decent living. Potential customers are treated like royalty. There’s a department for everything from gloves to sheet music, with a sales clerk to match (and sing!).

Recently, I could no longer tolerate the fact that my left great toe peered up at me from an after-market sun roof in my walking shoe. As a strong tree root upends a sidewalk, my rebellious digit had loosed the binding and powered its way through leather. I’d put up with this indignity long enough.

I have fond memories of shopping in J.C. Penney, and I’d just read an article about their survival as a chain. Mom worked in the shoe department to earn extra Christmas money once we kids had grown. My friend Betsy and I visited her there while scoping out cute long-haired guys and rearranging mannequins in department stores. Yes, I was/am a bit of a rascal. I like Penney for things like white goods and lingerie, and feel a certain nostalgia for one of few remaining older brands — Penney’s is celebrating 121 years in business April 14.

Its original store in downtown Medford now houses our very own Rogue Valley Times newspaper. So, the following is not a diss on dear old Penney. It’s a mere example of what shopping has become no matter what large department type store you visit.

The extraordinary thing about our Penney store is that once inside you may never get out, so wear comfortable shoes and bring water and a snack. It’s a two-floor funhouse experience.

I used Google to find the shoe department and once there found myself alone. Mom wasn’t there to greet me, measure my foot and help find the right shoe. No one was there. I could talk to myself and the echo rattled around the sale racks and came home.

Shuffling through the choices, I discovered a nice pair of Adidas running shoes that I hoped would encourage me to exercise more, though not motorized. I expect a lot from my athletic shoes. Mumbling something about hoping the toe would remain undercover, with no one to ask about a warranty (do they still have those?), I went to pay for them. Where? A woman pointed afar off yonder to the outer 40 and through fields of clearance racks to a waiting checker in women’s clothing — the woman and the department.

There was a short line, so a lovely person came over from cosmetics offering to ring me up as long as I was up to hoofing it clear over to her register. There may be few sales personnel, but the ones there are very friendly and helpful. After paying, I knew it was time to leave, but how? I felt like a rat with new tennis shoes running circles in a maze and sniffing for the exit door.

Shopping small and local doesn’t work for everything, but I’m glad to know Penney survives. I recommend the clearance fields for fine grazing, just take a GPS.

As a follow-up to last week’s weather rant, I’m pleased to say I broke out my froggy-went-a-courtin’ T-shirt the other day for the sun moment. I wore it to my bass lesson because it has a picture of a frog playing a stringed instrument on it. After wearing multiple layers for months on end, it felt slightly radical having my dough-colored arms out.

The forecast calls for a warming and cooling trend, showers, meteors, downright rain, and frogs.