RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CI, Issue 29801, 18 April 1962, Page 26

RANDOM REMINDER

FRIENDS

It was the practice, until comparatively recent times, for suburban grocers’ shops to carry, above the door, dignified notices in classical script, such as "J. Smith, Family Grocer, Purveyor of Quality Foods." Inside. J. Smith, bald and benign, purveyed his quality foods from behind a long, polished wood counter, to customers who pattered across a sawdust-covered floor enjoying the delightful blend of aromas —bacon, ham, coffee, spices and cheeses.

J. Smith really was a family grocer. He knew his customers and their families almost as well as his own although by some strange circumstance grocers’ families never seemed to exist except behind the door leading into the living

quarters. But there is a new order now linoleum, multicoloured decor, plate glass, refrigerators.

flashing lights, and talk of gondolas, check-outs, display shelving and sales promotions. Some regret the change, claiming that the grocer's shop today has no atmosphere or individuality. But behind the glittering facade, J. Smith is still J. Smith. He will tell you about the customer who had sprained a thumb and asked for a tin of fruit to be delivered opened. He has left his shop to search for lost children, he has cranked cars, rocked out jammed starters. returned lost dogs, performed baby sitting duties, taken broken legs to doctors, advised on baby feeding and broken open windows for old ladies who have locked themselves out. He often operates a recipe exchange service which would be the envy of Aunt Daisy. But sometimes even J. Smith must wonder whether

the grocer’s good neighbour attitude is really appreciated. It was a busy Friday, and his only assistant. had gone home for tea. The customers shuffled impatiently while he answered the telephone five times to the same' person. He listened to a brisk monologue on the best type of porridge; she had forgotten the name. He explained three times why he could not purvey lines it was not his business to stock, and then gave his considered opinion on a tonic for her husband, who was feeling

poorly. He had just started to cope with the rush when the telephone rang again. It was her. Her sick husband, she explained, 'was sitting up in bed doing a crossword puzzle. He was stuck for one word. Tell her, she said, could the word plague be used as a verb as well as a noun?