Pinky Pie

Schnucks: Throwaway or Recycled & Me

Posted on: January 4, 2011

I thought this was going to be a throwaway blog post, something mildly amusing at best. But it may turn out to be a recycled memory.

Something found me. I wasn’t looking for it; it just found me. It’s not a puppy that followed me home. This thing is a plastic bag from Schnucks – a grocery store from my childhood in suburban St. Louis. It was right there on my dining room table Sunday as I walked by. How in the heck?

Schnucks was not the grocery store of my early youth. It was at National’s in the Olivette Shopping Center that I was loaded into a cart as my  mom – AKA Mommy – shopped.

And this wouldn’t be even mildly amusing if it were a store named something other than Schnucks, just one letter off from the Yiddish word, schmucks, which politely means jerk and impolitely I shall not say.  I’m sure the Schnucks family, which has been in the grocery business since 1939 and has 100 stores in the Midwest, would not be so amused.

I had cleaned out the front closet a few weeks ago, which made me think it had risen to the top from there. Perhaps some things of my mom had but in it. But no; that wasn’t it. This was no bag from my childhood; it is plastic bag marked with a website and the marketing line, “We make it easy.”

Everything is easy, perhaps, but how the bag got there.

Son-in-law Mike thought it might have gotten there when he asked me for a bag or two when he and Maggie were packing to go home. I pulled a couple bags out of a very stuffed drawer of plastic bags used for cleaning the cat boxes.

I have been known to lose things now and then. I often say I spend half of my time losing things and the other half looking for them. Sometimes when I lose things they rise to the surface once I confess I can’t find something.

Maybe I was the one who was lost and the bag found me. Certainly it will have a better place in life than for cat litter, as important as that is.Bagged.

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4 Responses to "Schnucks: Throwaway or Recycled & Me"

This reminds me of the time I bought something on the street in New York and the vendor put it in a Schnuck’s bag. And he thought I was laughing because of the name!

That is hilarious. I don’t suppose you left that bag in my house in La Crosse?

Francie’s story is great.

But your story starts my memory working as well. I grew up in what was basically the pre-Schnucks era. My mother bought all her food at Straubs, which was admittedly a unique and pricey place. But most St. Louisans then bought at Krogers, A & P, Rapps, and Bettendorf’s. Now, they buy at Schnucks, Dierberg, and Whole Foods (with Straubs, of course, hanging on).

And, when I was growing up, plastic bags did not exist, as far as I recall. I have a distinct picture of a Straubs paper bag, but none of the plastic bag.

And plastic bags may be on their way out. Italy has banned their use completely, as of January 1. Wonder who will be next.

It was a big treat to go to Straub’s for lunch. A frankfurter – not a hot dog – is in my mind for the lunch. It was sliced in half and opened up on a bun as I recall.

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