It's no secret that I like my salt. For example: January 2011: Must-Have Travel Item #2
A few days ago, as I considered what items I might stock my pantry with in the event of a two-week self-quarantine, I checked my salt supply. It was probably OK, I thought. Besides, I'm trying to unload extraneous pantry items before I head out of Tucson the end of April.
But then, I re-thought. Is probably good enough?
Noooo, maybe not, a little brain worm niggled at me.
"Remember, Mzuri," the worm whispered. "Alas, Babylon. Alas, Babylon."
Yes. The 20th century tale of life after a nuclear war, by Pat Frank.
On the third day, Helen finds that all the food in the freezer has thawed. Randy goes into town to get salt to preserve the stock of meat. The supermarket shelves are empty, but he finds Pete Hernandez, the manager, in the stockroom guarding the last of the supplies. Randy pays him $200 for two sacks of salt. ....
.... August, at the end of the summer, brings about scarcity; they run out of oranges and grapefruits, armadillos destroy the yam crop, the fish stop biting, and they run out of salt. Everyone in Fort Repose has depleted the salt supplies, and everyone is suffering.
So I added salt to the list, which already included coffee, some canned soup and vegs, Crystal Light, and fresh fruit.
Only to discover that all of the table salt had vanished from the shelves. Sure, there were glass figures of pink and other "gourmet" salt, but no plain, ol' salt. Sheesh.
Except, there were three boxes of these remaining:
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| Salt. Tucson, Arizona. March 2020. |
Four POUNDS.
Another shopper and I looked diligently for a more reasonable alternative, but none was to be found.
Sheepishly, I bought a box, as did he, after calling his wife for an executive consultation.
Fortunately, it was only a dollar and a half, so I don't feel that ridiculous.
And by golly, I've got the salt issue licked.
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