I would
like to start today with a concept I’ve been thinking about for some time. I
feel as if I’m trying to write to a blank door and maybe I am, but from now on,
I will be writing to a friend. A friend that I can share my thoughts, politics,
joys and maybe even fears, so from now on,
you are my friend.
As my
friend you know that I am now into my sixth decade and for all of this time I
thought a brown paper bag was, well, a brown paper bag. When I was growing up
and it was time for school, if you were lucky, you would get a new tin
lunchbox. I remember having one that had a picture of Roy Rogers and Dale Evans
on it. If you weren’t as lucky as me, or if you were a boy, you took your lunch
in a brown bag.
For me it
was somewhat of a socioeconomic issue. Now don’t get me wrong, I grew up in the
rust belt and at best most people were middle class blue collar workers. Some
were miners so they may have made a little less. The only doctors or
professionals I knew were the ones that took care of me at the hospital.
Time
passed and I got married, had children, moved to Florida
As my
daughter grew she started to study ballet. I didn’t realize at the time but it
would become her career. For those who don’t know about classical ballet I like
to compare it to Olympic gymnastics or figure skating. Ballet is a full time
endeavor and a costly one at that. Having said that her, ballet took us back
down that small step back to middle class. Her dad and I didn’t mind at all, we
were thrilled she found her life’s love and devoted every waking moment to it.
During
this time, the local upscale mall opened a Bloomingdales Department store. This
didn’t matter to me but most of my daughter’s dancing mates came from wealthier
families and all they talked about was Bloomingdales. It seemed that every day
someone came in with something new from ‘Bloomies’.
Unless
you are familiar with Bloomingdales you are probably wandering what does this
have to do with brown bags.
Well as you see from the picture,
Bloomingdales
signature is “the Brown Bag”. Every time I walked into the studio someone had a
“Brown Bag”. My daughter wanted something in a “Brown Bag” so badly that she
could hardly think of anything else. She’s not the type of child that had to
have everything she saw, (refer back to Intro Blog), but being the only one
without this was painful for her. After all it wasn’t fair (ha, ha)
We were
getting close to Christmas, which is also her birthday and my brother wanted to
get her something for both. I told him just get her anything from Bloomingdales
in a ‘Brown Bag’ and she’ll be thrilled. Well because he spoiled her he got her
a gift certificate for $100. Now this was about 1984 so to her $100 was like
hitting the lottery. Therefore the day after Christmas off we go to
Bloomingdales to buy something glamorous.
Now all
of sudden she sees that a small wallet cost $50, a purse is $150 etc. She
learned quickly that $100 would not go very far. This was long ago thus she had
a paper check looking gift certificate and if you bought something for less
than $100, the sales clerk would give you change in cash. It didn’t take long
for her to say “I’m going to buy a hair clip for $10 and when I get my change
can we go to K-Mart? I’m not spending all my money on this stuff; I can get a
lot of things if I go somewhere else.”
What a
wonderful lesson for a 13 year-old to learn. Name brands aren’t all they are
cracked up to be and yet she still got her ‘Brown Bag’.
As a
child I thought a brown paper bag was to carry things or maybe you couldn’t
afford a new lunch box. Now I’m told it really means you have enough money to
shop anywhere you want and the packaging is so impressive you can show people
that you only shop at the best stores. Who knew?
Now here
we are in 2013 and all of a sudden, I find out that all this time as I used my
brown paper bag to carry things I realize I’ve been wrong.
Oh my
gosh, I’m a racist!!! Oh no how did this happen? I didn’t even know I was and I
don’t think most people who know me would say I am, but by golly, it’s true. It
must be true the city of Seattle Seattle
Now I
guess the fact that I didn’t know that I’m a racist makes me an even bigger
one. If I weren’t a racist I would have know that there is something called the
“brown bag test”.
Oh excuse me according
to the UrbanDictionary.com the actual phrase is “brown paper bag test”. It
started around 1900. So 113 years ago (I’m old but not that old) there was a
“brown paper bag test” that most people don’t even know existed and still we
are racist.
How
exactly did a brown paper bag go from being an item to carry things, to a sign
of wealth, to being racist!! I’m sure I
don’t know but all I can say is thank God for Publix plastic bags! Oh no,
wait a minute, aren’t Publix plastic bags the same color as the paper bags???
Hey, that’s not fair how do I know if I’m a paper racist or a plastic racist? I
think my head just exploded. Once upon a time there was a girl that had her
head intact, it was far, far, away… when she lived in a Fairy Tale…
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