In further praise of Costco

The following is a scientific research study. 

Make no mistake, it is not backed by any data. Even fake data. It is purely anecdotal. And has less validation than the recently debunked Lancet, New England Journal of Medicine and even the AMA, which Robert F. Kennedy said was driven by propaganda and political agendas. The fact that he and his grandchildren swim in sewage waters should not diminish his credibility one bit. 

Particularly when it comes to health related issues.

Less than two weeks ago, Ms. Muse and I visited the Costco in Alhambra. I know I shouldn't be treading on my friend Jeff Gelberg's esteemed blog rotationandbalance.blogspot.com, where he has written no less than 4 posts about Costco. Nevertheless that's where I'm treading. 

For purely journalistic purposes and so there is no reader confusion, let's refer to the Alhambra Costco as Tower of Babel II. If you were to stroll in there on a Sunday afternoon, assuming you were able to find a parking a spot within a 1/2 mile to the entrance, you would be treated to a cultural experience unlike any other. 

For starters you would find yourself in close contact with about 2.7 million Angelenos all stuffed into a warehouse size store roughly the same size as the former TBWA Chiat/Day headquarters in Playa Vista. Second you will hear no less than 18 different languages. Maybe 17 now that Gestapo-like ICE agents have begun sweeping up anyone who even looks Hispanic. And with my darkening swarthy olive skin and excessive exposure to the sun, that might even include me. 

Finally, every ten yards or so you'll come across someone peddling free samples. With the intention of getting their product into your shopping cart. And they're very persuasive. Mostly it seems they're pimping something kombucha-related: kombucha tea, kombucha soup, kombucha floor wax, even kombucha shaving cream. 

I pride myself on my adventurous palate and steel lined stomach. But I have had an aversion to anything kombucha adjacent since 1983, when my partner and I discovered a bottle of something kombucha, deep in the shelving units of the old Needham Harper & Steers mailroom. We opened the bottle which looked like decades old sewer water and dared to sniff it. Like so many things I don't get, my daughters love the stuff.

This past weekend, the long one, we found ourselves at the Costco in Palm Springs. More accurately in Palm Desert. And just so I offend everyone equal-handedly, let's refer to it as Rainbow Costco. 

It might have something to do with the 113 degree heat, but it was practically empty in there. And the sparse crowds made it seem like the warehouse was twice as big. Maybe thrice. This, not surprisingly, made it more conducive to traversing every aisle and spending ungodly amounts of money. 

I bought enough Colgate toothpaste to last me til I'm 93 or I'm put in the ground, whichever comes first.

Similarly, I snagged a deal on Pepcid AC in the Mega Pack 3000. If you're a certain age, like me, you know you can never go anywhere without the Pepcid AC. I've come to carry them around in my personal pillbox (along with edibles) and will often offer them to friends as a post meal treat. Like a prepper getting ready for the Apocalypse, I have enough of the chalky stuff to get me through nuclear meltdowns.

Perhaps because I have a marketing background, I couldn't help notice that the Health and Beauty section at Rainbow Costco dwarfed the same department at Tower of Babel II Costco. I also took note that none of the clientele braving the searing desert heat had mondo packages of diapers, potato chips or children's sneakers. Or all three.

It was a fascinating contrast in retail. OK, maybe just fascinating to Ms. Muse and I.

We did sample the $1.50 Hot Dog and soda at both stores. And they were both amazing. Dear Dodger Stadium brass, get your act together and stop charging $7.99 for a limp frankfurter that can't hold a candle, or a bun, up to the Costco Variety Mystery Meat Meal.