ANNA MONICA

It’s called shopping There are no signs saying “women only,” but there may as well be because that is mostly what you will find at any flea market, antique shop and at the malls. Oh, there will be a man or two here and there, who will dutifully browse with his partner but if their minds could be read, stop signs would be there. I truly believe there are some activities meant for only one segment of the male/female population and shopping, of any kind, is one of them. There are some men who like to shop (if you can find them) but probably the number is largely out of proportion to the women and wives who endure sports events (especially in front of the television and especially baseball and football) with the men, than there are men who put up with “women” things. So, while some of the men folk went off to watch LSU and Tulane fight for bragging rights, although we like ballgames, Maria, Cookie and I struggled with the decision (if you can believe that) of whether or not to go antique shopping. Well, not only did we go, but took Clair Robein and her sister-in-law, Gwen, with us. We like sports, but we really like antique shopping. After all, shopping doesn’t necessarily mean spending. Just ask any woman, any woman that is, except my sister, Phyllis, who would rather have her teeth pulled than to shop. Actually, she skillfully avoids both. Antique, or “old” pieces have become very popular. There was a time when we could really find a bargain and many of you have them. Now, though, unless you know a secret, that’s hard to do. As I kept saying all day as I looked at prices on furniture and other objects which I couldn’t fit into my house anyhow, “the word is out.” I can remember years ago, I picked up a few pieces of depression glass for very little and left plenty where I had found it. I didn’t know a thing about depression glass but the pieces I bought just appealed to me. In later years I find people with extensive collections and regret those pieces I didn’t buy. Everything now is “sky-high” and I really do love bargains. If the price isn’t marked down, I don’t want it. I call it being conservative. My family calls it cheap. It was a really good outing, though, seeing all those things we couldn’t afford or wouldn’t have room for them. A few bored men were browsing, and some teen-agers were looking while holding hands, which probably interested them more than looking. Several men were busy on their cell phones keeping up with the score in the ballgame, and one man had his hand-held television but couldn’t read the score. I met a clerk who shares my June 10 birthday, along with my brother, Carl, and there was another lady named Anna. Seems I share everything. My family has an I-10 rule: when you travel it, you stop somewhere to eat. It’s always in effect. We ate at a favorite place, the Macaroni Grill in Baton Rouge. It’s like family because LaPlace’s Suzanne and George Mastainich’s delightful son, Kent, is manager there and St. Charles graduate and LSU student, J. J. Fisse, works there. Therefore, if your male partner likes shopping of any kind, please clone him. We need help to carry the purchases we dream about. ANNA MONICA, a resident of Garyville, writes this column every Wednesday for L’Observateur.