Professor Jack Sanger
Subscribe to The Moment by Email

Archives

November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 February 2012 March 2012 April 2012 May 2012 June 2012 July 2012 August 2012 September 2012 October 2012 November 2012 December 2012 January 2013 February 2013 March 2013 April 2013 May 2013 June 2013 July 2013 August 2013 September 2013 November 2013 December 2013 January 2014 March 2014


Powered by Blogger
The Moment
Friday, April 15, 2011


 I know it's only rock and roll...

I walked into a supermarket in Accra today and asked who was in charge of the poultry section.  A nice feller came up to me and said “I am the Eggman”.  I wondered whether he had heard of the Beatles and he looked pinched before nodding dubiously.  No Ghanaian wants to say no to anything.  We shop in supermarkets because there is more chance of hygiene being applied to food preparation and storage, though sometimes, when there is a gap between electricity supply going off and generator coming on, there is a smell that drives you to the food that is not raw.  We tend to buy in bulkwhen desired offerings appear on the shelves because there is no guarantee you will see them again for weeks.  Hence, the fruit and vegetables we juice every morning are at the centre of the shopping quest.  It is not unusual to see us making off with several kilo bags of carrots, beetroot, green beans, cabbages, ginger and the fruity rest.  There are scares about buying on the markets because sometimes root crops are grown in effluent.

Which reminds me of shopping in Tashkent, Uzbekistan a few years after the demise of the USSR.  There, the supermarket had what it had.  There was no rhyme nor reason for what was on the shelves.  I remember seeing a brass telescope next to umbrellas and tinned goods.  Then, next to them I became excited because there were piles of vinyl, albums by British and American artists, copied in the old USSR, despite their degeneracy.  I got everything that fulfilled my love of the riffs of progressive rock music or which, like The Eagles or The Band melded rock with country. 

So once again in 2011 I was shopping in that same opportunistic way, sticking my hand in the bran tub of surprise and pulling out a plum; Jack Horner rather than Jack Sanger.  I thought to myself, placing a half dozen big white eggs in my basket, that I was never the Egg Man, more Jumping Jack Flash which then reminded me to look for Brown Sugar.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment


<< Home