Commentary by Dick Wolfsie
My wife says I’m not a spiritual person, but shopping at Whole Foods is really a big step in that direction for me.
I don’t like buying eggs and milk in the same place that sells snow boots, an unassembled chest of drawers and treadmills, like Super Target or Meijer. Those stores are Half Foods. At Whole Foods, almost everything on the shelves is edible, except stuff that is fat-free, gluten-free or sugar-free … which, come to think of it, is almost everything.
Last week, I bought a bar of soap, wrapped in clear shrink-wrap. When I got out of the shower the next morning, I told Mary Ellen I didn’t think it lathered very well. “Is it because it’s organic?” I asked.
“No, it’s because you just washed yourself with a wedge of cheese.”
Mary Ellen’s shopping list is a model for anyone who wants to eat healthy: almond milk, kale and low fat granola. If I shop on my own at a regular supermarket, I smuggle in white bread, hard salami and doughnuts. When we shop together, I’m on a very short leash and the chances of getting any treats are zero – even if I beg. I wish my wife would treat me more like a dog. I deserve it.
Magazines at Whole Foods always have the words Yogurt or Yoga or Yogi on the cover. One was called “The Road to Renewal.” I expected it to contain approaches to reaching nirvana, but instead there’s a check-list for what to take on your next journey. There was no mention of a positive attitude, or a degree of self-reflection or introspection. Instead, the top three items were underwear, white socks and sandals – important things to take on one of the several dozen mind/body retreats they offer around the world, and at a very lofty price, too.
So I guess you can be a new-age, Whole-Foods-shopping, transcendental-meditating Buddha fan, and still believe in making a buck.
That’s the spirit!