It’s almost open!
Tomorrow, Monday, July 13, is a soft opening for Johnny Gibson’s Downtown Market. And before long–I don’t know that there’s an official date-this local market’s going to be ready for us.
We caught a glimpse of this fabulous store last night at a soft-soft opening, more of an informal and unplanned preview. It was 2nd Saturday downtown as well, so the neighborhood was packed.
From what we know, the store will be open daily until midnight. And it has bike delivery! And a seafood and meat counter! A deli! And lots of locally sourced items! And a salad bar! And beer on tap! (Plus one of my fave Bavarian hefe weizens in bottles…)A big plaza/courtyard for eating!
Also, some great blown up photos of the muscle man himself (and a very cool 3-D rendition of Johnny on the east side of the store’s patio).
What does the market stock, in terms of groceries? We saw lots of great basics–baking ingredients (every time I attempt to bake–which is rare–I’m missing something–baking soda, flour, something!), milk, juice, yogurt, pasta, broth, etc. Whatever you realize you are out of, Gibson’s probably has it. Kosher wine? Anchovies? Yep.
For us downtown folks who feel the loss of the 17th Street Market when we really need a lemon or head of lettuce, this is a major bonus. No more car trips to Safeway or Food City just to pick up a single ingredient!
I can imagine that Johnny Gibson’s is going to be a weekly stop on our commute (whether via bike, car, feet, or streetcar) from the University to our downtown home.
Tucson, you are making lots of people very happy!
Kate Sarther Gann
Precision Toyota of Tucson, Friday, June 26, 2015. It’s the first service on Olaf, my beloved little Prius C.
The lounge I enter has three people in it, plenty of seats between them. After I sit down, I catalog them: 50-something woman in Birkenstocks and a “Grandma” t-shirt; bespectacled 50-something man with grey mullet and Columbia hiking clothes, armed in holsters at both shoulders; and an elegantly dressed businessman my age, working on a tablet, with a Chicago Bears water bottle.
On the flatscreen, tuned to CNN, the President begins his eulogy for Rev. Clementa Pinckney.
A man in his 70s takes the seat nearest the entrance, resting his cane between his legs. He has a striking rectangular religious medallion hanging outside of his shirt. He realizes what is on TV. He shakes his head, flings out his arm in a universal gesture of dismissal and disgust, and leans back in his seat, eyes closed.
Guns, Grandma, and I watch the President. Business does business.
President Obama begins speaking about grace. He begins reciting the lyrics to “Amazing Grace.”
Grandma hisses, and fairly shouts, “I can’t believe he DARED! I can’t believe The Lord didn’t STRIKE HIM DOWN RIGHT THERE.”
Cane smirks. Business says, “I know! After THIS MORNING’s OFFENSE …” Grandma and Business begin talking. They are Christians and the marriage ruling is wrong—a plot, in fact. The President is a two-faced liar and not really even President. He certainly isn’t a Christian, and this is all just a spectacle. They talk about books they’ve both read by Christian authors that biblically expound upon what an evil man Obama is.
Guns gets up, juts his chin at the screen, and says to me in a voice that carries, “I wonder how much THIS is costing us,” and leaves the room. Business and Grandma nod to him as he exits.
The eulogy continues.
A Hispanic woman in her 30s with two young children enters. They sit together quietly, as if they have just had bad news about their car. A service rep comes in to see them shortly after, saying, “It won’t be too long.” He glances at the screen and leaves.
Another service rep, a man of color, comes in for Cane. Cane stops him before he can get more than a few words out. “This is a waiting room. You people have a lot of nerve having GARBAGE LIKE THIS—“ cane jousting at the screen “—and I am NOT the only one who feels that way. Turn it to a local station.” Grandma and Business voice their assent as Cane leaves.
I say—and I don’t think I am saying it aloud until they react to me—“He is the President of the United States.” Grandma hisses again. Business snorts. They return to their earlier conversation.
Mom looks over at me, eyebrows raised. She turns to watch the screen.
Every once in awhile, out of the corner of my eye, I see her nodding at the screen and smiling.
Suddenly, the President begins to sing. I’m not surprised; it seemed like he would have to, once he took up that theme, and given the venue. Grandma bolts up and yells at the screen, “SIT DOWN! Stop!”
I don’t know what is happening to me, but I look at her, hold up my arm in the stop/slow down gesture, and say in a voice I usually save for telling my kid to behave, “I have to disagree…but respectfully.”
Grandma sits, clearly fuming.
The eulogy ends.
Mom gets up, goes to the refreshment counter and says to the attendant, “I was so wrapped up in that great speech, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” She sets down the book she had been reading when she first sat down and I realize it is her personal Bible (the silk page markers, the highlighter, the usual signs are there). She brings pastries over to her kids and returns for the book.
My whole life, I have never liked that song. Never, never. I didn’t hear it much growing up in the Catholic Church, but it’s fairly ubiquitous in the U.S. My mom loves it—many people I know do—and it was sung at my brother’s funeral. For whatever reason, it isn’t about the words, which I’ve never found compelling, but some kind of association in my mind with particular kinds of self-righteous Christians. Even though I am not a Christian, there are many in my life whom I respect, and they do not bear that particular brand of self-righteousness.
Amazing Grace, right there in the Precision Toyota customer lounge. It took the words and actions of some hateful people who felt they owned Grace, a woman with a dog-eared Bible, and the off-key singing of a President in an incredible place, surrounded by people of substance, speaking powerful truths about what many teachers, including the one named Jesus, have been telling us since the beginning of time—we have to do better toward one another—to forever change my mind about that song.
Erin Hughes, an awesome TucsonMama and exceptional artist, has debuted a line of cards. They are colorful and unique and simply stunning.
She’s launching some new designs, and we’re giving away two sets of 8 different cards!
To enter, please leave a comment on this post that includes EBH or Everyday Beautiful Human, AND “like” Everyday Beautiful Human’s page on Facebook–you can do so by clicking the Facebook link on her web site.
See how beautiful the cards are?
Winners will be announced on Mother’s Day. How appropriate!!!