Our Lady of Odd Lots

Yesterday I was waiting in the paint line at Home Depot. In front of me was a woman, mid-60's. As I stood in back of her I couldn't help but wonder how much younger (and better) this woman would look if she ditched the gray hair. Which made me realize I shouldn't be judging her hair when I hadn't colored my own in over two months. Yikes! My gray was showing!

I put in my paint order and started hoofing it to the drug store on the other end of the strip mall. I needed my box of hair color. And maybe some new mascara. And some new smoky eye colors while I was at it(I was giving myself a makeover as I walked along).

I passed in front of Odd Lots, turned on my heel, and swung in for a quick look around. I knew I'd probably have to walk to the drug store for my hair dye, but it wouldn't hurt to check out Odd Lots selection. The gaudy, but gorgeous pink sequined Valentines wreaths caught my eye, and before I knew what was happening I had been sucked into the vortex of cheap picture frames and a million other items I didn't really need. Thanks, dad.

My dad was king of the bargain. He lived for garage sales, and thought everything could be purchased for a quarter. Many years ago, Phoenix didn't have Odd Lots. But Michigan did. And a summer visit to my mother and father's home state wasn't complete without a shopping trip to the great discount store. My dad actually designated a whole morning of our vacation to Odd Lots. We bought gift bags in bulk, greeting cards by the dozens, and one summer, pregnancy tests. Lots of them. Yes, Nora's existence was proven by a pregnancy test I purchased at a discount store.

I'm pretty convinced Norm knew that not everything was a deal at Odd Lots, but it didn't deter him from the fun detective work of finding the hidden bargain. That's why we sometimes ate Bugles by the caseload or had Hamburger Helper twice a week for two years. And so, it is enmeshed in me. I didn't find the mascara or hair color. But it was worth a look. I half expected to round a corner and see Norm holding a jar of pickles. He would have discussed how at 99 cents, the farmer couldn't be making more than a quarter for those pickles. He marveled at business models and the costs of production and distribution.

More than any other time since he's been gone, whether it be in church, outside, or in his house, I felt the presence of my father. I left Odd Lots empty-handed, but full-hearted.