For Thursday April 17, 1997 Drummer Column, Gibbs, 743 words

Ho, Malone

My wife left me alone for three days. She went to a conference at Asilomar, that beautiful seaside resort in Pacific Grove, near Monterey. Before she left, she poured me a big bowl of food and plenty of water. She set out new papers and spread around a few chew toys. Before shutting the door, she gave me a last pat on the head, to say she loved me. Then she drove away.

Whine. Whine.

It turned out that bowl of food was for Lennie, our dog. At least, he ate it before I did. Now, I must fend for myself.

I'd promised Susan that I wouldn't eat all my meals at fast food joints. It's expensive and unhealthy. I'd promised to cook. So, after she left, I drove over to Costco and bought a 5-lb. bag of red hot buffalo wings. That should last three days. I also bought like $300 in other stuff.

I don't normally shop alone. Susan won't let me. We have different shopping philosophies, and she doesn't like mine, even though it's better than hers. I can say that because she's not here to edit my copy.

I see it this way: Have you every gone to the store to buy milk and come home with six bags of groceries? Have you every entered a hardware store to buy a sprinkler head and come out with a nine-pack of screwdrivers, a case of disposable gloves, and some azaleas? It's human nature to over-shop. We do it supposedly to save time. It's like, "Why waste the trip. I might as well pick up a few extra things while I'm here."

O.K. so my philosophy is designed to thwart that expedient impulse. It works like this: Buy lots of the non-perishable items that cause you to go to the store all the time. That way you won't be going to the store and buying stuff.

For instance, pet food makes us go to Costco. We get by just fine here at Safeway and Raleys until we need pet food. It's not the price that drives me; it's the bulk packaging, and the fact that stuff moves so fast you know it's fresh, and because my pets like it. I buy cat food by the case, shrink-wrapped, and stack it in the garage.

I figure we seldom come out of Costco for less than $100, and pet food sends us in, so why not stock up on pet food and save money?

Susan buys one case at a time. I just bought 10 cases and 120 pounds of dog food. That will save us possibly nine trips to Costco and at least $1,000.

I also bought 100 disposable rubber gloves for picking up the used pet food in the yard, 400 garbage bags, 10 gallons of weed killer, and an electric hedge trimmer on sale. Susan will be thrilled to know that I saved us $1000 and then spent it so wisely.

In the evenings I rent a movie and grade papers during the love scenes. I turn out all the lights in the house except for those in the room I'm visiting. I eat off my chest, and let the dog stay in. My shoes are spread all over the house. The mail is piling up. The light's blinking on the answering machine. The bed gets made when I climb into it, and I wash dishes as I need them.

I'm only into my second day, and already I'm developing habits. I'm glad she didn't leave for a week. I'd have to be kenneled.

It's quiet right now. There's just a faint ringing in the ear. It's dark, too. All the lights are out. I'm working in my den by window light, just before sunset. The pets are all sleeping around me. Felix the mother cat is napping on my desk, left of my elbow. Scatman the fat son is on his back at my feet. Lennie the shaved sheepdog is sprawled in the doorway, his rear legs in the hall. They are well fed today.

It seems funny to sit here typing and not hear Oprah in the next room. It's strange to not hear Susan's voice at the kitchen phone, to not hear her footsteps in the hall bringing me column cookies and revisions. It's uncomfortable sleeping at night and not having her lap to throw my leg over to keep my knees from knocking.

I miss her.