The Recession met a horrible death today on the mean shopping streets of Walnut Creek, California. Mr. Recession was mugged on the sidewalks in front of high-end stores, and became roadkill on the streets connecting shopping centers. As I tried to get to the neighborhood Safeway in my unending daily quest to find the one perfect banana in northern California for Alice, I was stopped at a mid-block pedestrian crosswalk as a seemingly endless army of shoppers crossed, each carrying a bulging Crate & Barrel bag. I finally got through by impersonating a delivery truck. "There's a shopper at Nordstrom who won't make it if I don't get through with this special!" I implored, wheedled, and pleaded.
They let me pass as a humanitarian gesture. "I know you would do the same for me," a woman shouted. I forged ahead to Safeways, and found it packed with shoppers refueling for their next sorties. I thought the good citizens of Walnut Creek would shop until they dropped, but they have been forged in the heartland of world-class shoppers. There was no quit in them - no stopping, no dropping, just quality endurance shopping.
Mr. Recession never had a chance.
Recessions should be made of sterner stuff.
At least ones that invade northern California.