Civilized: adj. Characterized by Taste, Refinement or Restraint

I've been meaning to write this post for a couple of weeks now. It's just a short note about a little phenomenon on the Island named, "Grannie's." If you ever have the pleasure of being on the Island for more than a few days, you're bound to hear the term "Grannie's" thrown into conversation at one point or the other.

So what is "Grannie's?" Here are a few phrases you might hear in conversation. Try and guess!

"Isn't it great? I got it at Grannie's for only a buck fifty!" "If you don't pick up your toys, I'll take them to Grannie's!" "I seriously need to clean out my closet and just take everything to Grannie's!"

By now, I'm certain you have surmised the answer (a local, home-grown, second-hand store). Grannie's Attic is, in fact, a local thrift shop run by--you guessed it--Island Grannies. The store's main focus is to raise additional funds to support the largest Health Clinic on Vashon Island and they do a very nice job of it to the tune of a few hundred thousand dollars a year.

For me, however, I didn't know just how much Grannie's meant to many of our locals until one seemingly normal, Thursday morning about two weeks ago.

It was one of the first, cool Autumn days we'd had. (I remember because I had to argue with Truman about him wearing a coat out of the house that morning.) I put Anna on the school bus and then took Truman to the above mentioned Health Center to have his regular, well-child check-up. He did very well at his exam, but did have to have one shot. I told him, "Truman, if you sit still for your shot, I'll take you to Grannie's and let you pick out a toy afterwards." Well, that pacified him immediately and he sat brave as a soldier.

So, a kind "Thank you" to our family physician and off we walked across the parking lot to Grannie's. Now, I've found some wonderful things at Grannie's, but I'd never been to the thrift store at opening time before.

A rather non-descript sort of establishment, Grannie's has two buildings next to the Health Center (all part of some old military something-or-other). When we arrived at the door there were a couple of men standing right at the doorway. I noted that opening time was at 10:00 and being that it was only a quarter to, I decided to take Truman to the car, get him a snack and let him eat it there before going back to the thrift shop.

Five minutes or so later we were back at the front door, and to my astonishment, there were about 20 people now mulling around the building front! I wondered if there was some sort of special discount, blow-out clearance sale that day? But, Truman was still feeling a bit blue about his shot so I made light conversation with him and didn't bother to ask.

I noticed, a few minutes later, that mobs were gathering at the other Grannie's building as well. Cars were being parked in the field across the way as all the parking spaces were filling up. Was there a celebrity book signing at Grannie's Attic today? What in the world was going on?!

I was just about to ask a thin, wispy woman near me what the commotion was all about when she looked straight at me with an insinuating squint and spat, "You can't just walk up to the door and expect to cut in line in front of the rest of us." Oh, my! I was so suddenly made aware that there even was a line! But, now that she mentioned it, I could see that people had lined up on the sidewalk. I had just thought they were being polite and not pushy since they came from the other direction. The grass was wet, and I thought they were just standing on the walk way. I really didn't know it was an official line.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I honestly, innocently replied, "I didn't realize that there was a line."
That's when the tall, elegantly dressed, auburn-haired woman behind the thin one slowly turned her head towards me and hissed through lip-sticked lips, "There is."

Then, as I politely made my way to the back of "the line," the thin one muttered loudly, "Didn't know there was a line! Lines have been around since the beginning of civilization. All civilized people stand in lines!"

That's when I loudly told my son, "It's okay, Truman, You were such a good boy getting your shot at the doctor's this morning. We'll find you a nice little toy at Grannie's. The store will open soon."

The door soon opened and the greedy mob rushed the store (so much for lines) anxious to find the latest and greatest find. I witnessed one woman standing by a beat-up old desk, her hand resting on top, gloating to another treasure hunter, "Sorry, I got here first. It's mine!"

Somehow this all reminded me of those day-after-Thanksgiving retail-nightmare shopping tales of mobs rushing a Walmart. But here? On my tranquil Island? I was truly appalled, ashamed and sickened.

Truman and I stayed happily in the mostly patron-free toy section and he joyfully tried to make a selection. He was, thankfully, oblivious to the materialistic mob madly rushing about scouring the junk in the next room. I couldn't help but contrast Truman's utter delight in a simple toy car or a little figurine and how he was so honestly grateful to me for letting him choose a little something. We walked out with some "super secret spy glasses" for a dollar.

I think from now on, I'll try to go to Grannie's in the afternoon when the salivating shoppers have slunk back into their Island hide-outs with their treasures of broken tables and chairs, used pots and pans and trinkets of silver and gold.

Tell me that part about civilization again?