In a first for Massachusetts, voters in Worcester will cast ballots in grocery stores.
USA Today
The key to a healthy electorate is eating right, so I’ve brought political pundit and nutrition advisor Marci Adams to the Super Stop & Shop in Worcester to assist me in exercising the right that our colonial ancestors fought and died for while I pick up a 2 Pack of Drake’s Ring Dings.
“This certainly has been an exciting election,” I say as I drop the frosted crème-filled snacks in my shopping cart.
“Um-hmm,” Marci says as she puts the Devil’s Food cakes back on the shelf and replaces them with a bag of yogurt-covered raisins. “First time since 1928 that an incumbent president or vice president hasn’t been a candidate,” she notes.
“It’s also the first time in history two U.S. Senators are running against each other,” I say as I reach for a bag of Cape Cod Sea Salt ‘n Vinegar potato chips.
“Let’s head down the Republican aisle for traditional staples first, okay?” Marci says, her brow furrowed with concern at my high cholesterol choices. “I don’t want you filling up on Dennis Kucinich Fruit Roll-Ups.”
“I’m thinking of eating Italian,” I say as I peer into the glass frozen food case at a Giuliani Stuffed Manicotti entrée.
“Are you kidding? With 546 milligrams of sodium per serving?”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say. “He was a little too salty for flyover country.”
“How about some Romney Family Dry Biscuits?” Marci asks. “No caffeine, no sugar, no salt . . .”
“No flavor.” I scan the shelves. “What’s this? Huckabee Ranch Squirrel Surprise?”
“That’s a very popular entrée in red states.”
“Not my demographic. Well, I’m just about out of choices.”
We turn the corner and see the dreaded Sample Lady.
“Would you like to try some McCain’s Stuffed Quahogs?” she asks pleasantly.
I look at the reheated clam meat with bread crumbs and paprika in the rock-hard shell. “Not very appealing,” I say to the woman.
“I know, but it is tough,” she says with a smile.
“I guess I’ll take a couple,” I say, and throw them in my cart, Mary Tyler Moore-style.
“Let’s head over to the Democratic aisle,” Marci says.
“Okay.”
“Would you like a Hillary Pop?” she asks.
“I don’t know. What are they like?”
“Hard outer shell, soft center.”
“Sounds good. Did you check the freshness date?”
“Oops. Expires January 20, 2001.”
“I’ll pass. What else?”
“Well, there’s John Edwards Shampoo and Conditioner.”
“What will that do for me?”
“Let’s see-‘Hides your natural colors until it’s too late.’”
“No thanks.”
We head to the health food section and I check out the nutrition information on an Obama Weight Watchers frozen dinner.
“This is scary,” I say. “It has high liberal content.”
“Nobody comes through the meat-grinder of Chicago politics without some impurities.”
“Okay,” I say, and we head towards the express line.
I start to put my items on the conveyor belt, but stop to indulge my supermarket tabloid addiction.
“I love the National Enquirer!” I say as I pick one off the rack.
“How can you read that junk?”
“Oh my God! Ron Paul has a UFO Love Child!”
