The voice of baby boomers, the silenced majority. Rants and reflections on lifestyle, fashion, current events, books and movies.

Are men really born to shop?


Does anyone have a Tylenol?

I’ll give you a thousand dollars for a Tylenol PM.

My girlfriends and I have a strict and effective shopping protocol. We shop alone or if we do go to the mall possee-style, we immediately split up for the serious stuff and reconnoiter later for lunch. It’s not a complicated system and there’s no room for men in this picture. Before my honey and I were married we went into a jewelry store to pick out my Christmas present (you do things like that before you get married). He immediately started shuffling his feet, yawning and jiggling the change in his pockets. I jokingly suggested he might be happier watching the football game. Before I even finished the sentence he was outa’ that store in a cloud of dust and disappeared faster than Wylie Coyote.

Why do they do it? Why do women drag their boyfriends/husbands shopping or why do the husbands tag along? We’ve all seen them. Rows of sleeping men sitting in the massage chairs or loungers with a pile of shopping bags on the floor beside them. Or a bored and weary guy snoozing on the one lonely chair in the bedding section. The other day I was in a large department store and watched in amazement (and horror, if I must say) while a sixty-something gentleman kept holding up various ugly blouses for his wife to approve or disapprove. Is she afraid to leave him at home alone in case he renovates the bathroom or surfs for porn?

Sad, sad Leroy Brown. Most PW'd man in the whole damn town.

Sad, sad Leroy Brown. Most PW’d man in the whole damn town.

There are times when men shopping does come with benefits. Two of my friends were on holidays with their husbands and with only one rental car for the four of them, tag-alongs were inevitable. Being the smart and resourceful husbands they are, the guys parked themselves outside Victoria’s Secret and spent some pleasurable time assessing the suitability of the merchandise for all the customers departing the store. Even though they’re no longer in the game, they also concluded it would be a good place for single guys to meet girls. No bar bill and no sign-up fee required.

And I haven’t even touched on the subject of taking small children shopping. Yesterday I witnessed a yuppie Dad maneuvering his little girl in a pricey Graco stroller through a department store. The little girl appeared to be between two and three years old with cute little ponytails and Princess shoes. She was alternating between screaming and choking crocodile tears. Baby-daddy bends over and softly says, “Now Caroline (last syllable pronounced to sound like wine), use your “word” to tell Daddy how you feel”. I burst out laughing right there in the store. It was ten minutes after twelve—lunchtime. Caro-line was hungry, tired and bored. There’s three words. Take your pick. He was still negotiating with her several minutes later when I rounded the corner into housewares and left them to it. From now on ladies, leave ’em at home. You’ll have more fun without them and your taste in clothes is probably much better anyway. Thank you and put that on my our VISA.

Recognize our guys! I hope not.

Recognize our guys? I hope not.

What about this picture isn't just plain tragic?

This picture is just plain tragic.


Checking the score or looking for a computer date?

Checking the score or hoping to score; shopping on-line for a new computer date?

Author: Lynda Davis

As an early Baby Boomer, born in 1947, it seems to me that as we approach our retirement years, Boomers have gone from being the energy driving our nation to slowly becoming invisible. We risk losing our identity as society remains stubbornly youth-centric. And the irony is that Gen Xers and Ys are not the majority; we are. BOOMERBROADcast is my platform for being the voice of Baby Boomers, women in particular. We've generated a lot of changes over the decades but there's still a long way to go. After a 40-year career in the corporate world, I've taken up expressing the observations and concerns of our generation. Instead of pounding the pavement in my bellbottoms with a cardboard sign, I'm pounding my laptop (I learned to type on a manual typewriter and old habits die hard). If you have issues or concerns you would like voiced or have comments on what I've voiced, I'd love to hear from you. We started breaking the rules in the sixties and now that we're in our sixties it's no time to become complacent. Hope you'll stay tuned and if you like BOOMERBROADcast, share it with your friends. Let's rock n' roll! If you would like to be notified whenever I publish a new posting, click on the little blue box in the lower right of your screen that says +Follow→ Lynda Davis

4 thoughts on “Are men really born to shop?

  1. I call those areas in stores where they have seats “husband daycare.” I much prefer to go shopping alone so I can take my time without guilt. Funny thing, my father loved to shop. My mother, not so much.


  2. Hilarious and so true!
    Gail from Oakville


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