diet lemon lime

8/5/99

Even people who don’t know me well could figure out that I’m a serious grocery shopper. And also incredibly thrifty, almost to a fault. I’m a connoisseur of generic brands. There are certain things I will never buy generic: laundry detergent, cereal, toothpaste; and things I always buy store brand, barring a sale on the name brand: cookies, bread, paper towels, soda.

Maybe that only seems strange to me because my parents never bought generic. Always Crest, Charmin, Tide, Nabisco, Coke. When I began shopping on my own I harbored similar snobbish consumerisms, but my hippie roommates soon cured me of my need for expressly Maruchan Ramen Noodles. We favored Kroger, Spartan, and local brands over the evil monster corporations.

First thing I did upon moving to Georgia was to check out the grocery scene. The typical Kroger, and a few unfamiliar ones. Contrary to my usual habit of shopping at three different stores for the best prices, I’ve chosen a favorite: Publix.

Of course that’s pronounced “Public’s,” but in my gutterminded way I’ve taken to calling it “Pube Licks.” I love Publix. It’s about a step above Kroger; those of you in the Lansing area might compare it to Goodrich’s, in Ann Arbor to Busch’s. I’ve become picky.

Publix brand items tend to be a step above Kroger. More than anything, I chose Publix because it’s completely new—going to Kroger was disconcerting because I was lost, but I felt like I should know my way around Kroger. I was especially turned off at Kroger because they had those new, tall carts and the cashier unloads groceries from the cart instead of usuing a conveyor belt. Not only was it slow, but I didn’t know where to stand. I really hate being lost in the grocery store.

Publix has fewer soda flavors than Kroger, and the store doesn’t carry Faygo, which is a shame. But I bought some Publix brand “Diet Lemon-Lime” soda yesterday. There’s a twinge of flavor in it that reminded me of something. I couldn’t put my finger on it until I remembered the generic soda I drank when visiting my paternal grandparents as a child. Their store brand must have been Giant Eagle, since they lived in Pittsburgh, but it had the same sweetness as Publix. As soon as I pinpointed that flavor, I was taken back to the patio at that house on the hill, looking out over the hills of McKees Rocks, also covered with houses. My dad’s cousin Terri Lynn telling me she’d share my soda so it wouldn’t go flat. The reunion/party my Pap threw before he died of emphysema.

Don’t underestimate the power of a 21-cent can of soda.