Memory is a T.J. Maxx
When she was seventy-three, Mom got arrested at a T.J. Maxx. They brought her to a little security office and laid out the charge: switching price tags, which she denied. "The tag came off! I was trying to fix it!"
I, Thief — Notes from the Purloining Life
I was an artistic kid who wanted to experiment with looks, so when mom was done taking me to the thrift store for back to school shopping (where she must have thought I got everything, because she never asked me about any of my clothes), I hoofed it to the mall.
Ah. The Mall. Many a warm late summer day spent in its confines, layering one pair of pants under another. Putting a nice shirt on underneath a not-so-nice one. Trading a pair of old shoes for new. Pulling off tags and staying away from anything with a magnetic button attached to it.
Anxiety is the thing that’s ripped our country apart. It has divided us, caused us to fear and hate those who think and live differently than us, and even caused us to hate those who only slightly disagree with us. It has led to panic and overreaction. And I worry that American Anxiety is only going to exacerbate the social and political divide in this country to the point that there is no coming back.