Living in America

America is seeping into my veins.  It is starting to feel like home again.  I vacillate between excitement over all of the American-ness that is around me and the desire to hold a lot of that American-ness at arms length and ponder it with a bit of skepticism.  While in the UK, I thought I missed all of the cheerful, sparkly American goodies and doo-dahs.  Now that I'm back, I examine said goodies with a very critical eye and ask ridiculously serious questions like:

• "How many calories/ artificial ingredients/ saturated, partially hydrogenated fats are in this thing?" 
• "Was this cute-as-can-be dingleberry painted in a horrible third world sweatshop with toxic led paint?"  
• "Is there anything in this store that was not made in China?" 
• "Is this packaging recyclable?" or "Is this entire thing going to end up in a landfill when I'm finished with it?"

These questions tend to take the fun out of a shopping experience.  Ignorance is indeed bliss.  Shopping without asking any of these questions is an entirely different affair.  Have I become my own worst killjoy?

Thankfully I live with three delightful children who prevent the killing of too much joy and provide scads of their own homemade joy.  The older girls are very excited about spending the first Thanksgiving that they can recall in America.  They are also both a little annoyed that the local stores seem to be "skipping Thanksgiving" since all of the retailers have Christmas displays twinkling and jingling at full force, but I doubt they will hold a grudge. 

I'm sure I will achieve a balance at some point.  I will discover how to be both a happy and ethical shopper.  Is that possible?  I appreciate the perspective that I gained during my five years across the pond.  Consumption is such a huge part of our American culture.  I was immersed in it for most of my life and didn't even it know it.  Consumption was my "normal," but it has gotten crazy, hasn't it?  It's not fun to think about, because buying and "consuming" new sparkly, shiny, happy things is great fun, but there is a price.

Too many material things in my space makes me feel empty and shallow.  Sometimes I think things like, "How can I pay $20 for a poorly made, imported Halloween costume when we have a trunk full of dress up clothes and home... especially since I could donate that $20 to starving children in Sri Lanka instead?"  This is my personal, internal dialogue.  I promise not to tut-tut if I see you in Target with an inflatable Charlie Brown Christmas lawn ornament in your trolley, but I am having a hard time re-inserting myself into the consumer-driven American scene.

Then the other side of my brain chimes in and says, "You know this really is a luxurious problem to have!  Only someone with a comfortable income can bother to agonize over whether the more expensive organic, ethically sourced thingamajiggy is really better to buy than the store brand."  I think it's time to give my brain a little rest...

"I love to go shopping.  I love to freak out  salespeople.  They ask me if they can help me, and I say, "Have you got anything I'd like?"  Then they ask me what size I need, and I say, "Extra medium."  -Stephen Wright