Once in a while, I pick up pieces of paper on the street. After reading A La Cart I might do it more often. No: I am not getting into repairing the littering practices of the globe. I have a hard enough time managing my own ephemera. So, no. This impulse has nothing to do with being green. Okay, to be fair the practice might qualify as environmentally sound based on its greeny-ness but that would be an unintended consequence if I go ahead and recycle what I pick up. The impulse I am describing, though, has nothing to do with ethics. It has to do with laughter. Yes, laughter. A La Cart is a book by Hillary Carlip who may have bumped every other human being in the known universe (well, there might be a few exceptions that I can think of. . .) off the list called "In the Running For Funniest Person Ever." I don't actually keep such a list, but I am about to start and she's going to be in the top five. Likely the top two. Maybe even the Number One. Yes, Cooking with Ideas has had an entry entitled "I laughed out loud" before; but seriously, this book may be the funniest thing since. . . . sliced bread. (Ok, I am not sure sliced bread is funny.)
What does this have to do with food? The book's subtitle gives a hint: The Secret Lives of Grocery Shoppers. I love grocery stores (though I do not always love grocery shopping) and visit them wherever I go. So, the subtitle drew me right in. Yes, what Carlip picks up are grocery lists. She finds them, she imagines what they might portend, she dresses up like the people she imagines wrote (or shopped from) the lists, and she writes brief essays about them. The book includes 26. And trust me, if I had not known that they were all [MASSIVE SPOILER ALERT] the same person, I would never have guessed. And the imagination combined with the realism ("real" as in Paris is Burning) -- think passing and think parody and think seriously poignant and scorchingly political all turned into . . . . well, performance art. Male, female, straight, gay, jewish, punk, black, goth, buxom,old, young, flat chested, bearded and covered with tattoos. Porno superstars, feminist therapists entertaining Gloria Steinem, guys looking for dates on the internet. . . Unimaginably diverse in both appearance and story. Unimaginably real -- sort of reality on steroids. I could, indeed, make this sound like a must read for everyone who thinks about what higher education types call "inclusive excellence." Or required reading for a Martian who wants to get North Americans quickly. But really: wow.
The photographs are really great -- all done by Barbara Green. And the shopping lists!
Besides making me want to pick up pieces of paper when I find them and then imagine their authors, A La Cart has had another consequence that even those who are not psychoanalysts might consider a symptom: I am struggling with a compulsion to be absolutely sure Hillary Carlip is no where in my vicinity when I misplace pieces of paper. (And I have been losing things like mad lately. My keys. My name tag at conferences. My marbles. My lists.) What would she make of them? I would hate to see her be inaccurate. But I did recently see a pretty frightening imitation of myself -- so I would also hate to see it be too accurate. So, I am trying hard not to misplace any paper at all. (I am pretty sure Carlip does not sort through garbage pails or recycling bins. Or at least I hope if she does so she does so elsewhere.)
A La Cart also made me want to check out her other book: Queen of the Oddballs. For the associated web site, click here. (And, for a review of this memoir on trashionista, click here.) Perfect title. Imagine that as a superhero. Hmmm. And, the book was nominated for TWO Lambda Literary Awards. Who knew?
So, if you want to laugh, check out Carlip's work. You can even do it on the web. So Laugh Already. And then go grocery shopping. And then look at your grocery shopping list with a new eye. WAIT --- one more thing: share your grocery list in the comments?
