The next stop was Pier 1. I had wanted a bedspread for my office, but the twins available were high over my head, unreachable, and not pretty enough to induce me to ask someone to take them down. I settled for a folding chair for my desk (Up ’til now, I’ve been sitting on the cat carrier.) A stop at Noble Pies for lunch, then on to The Good Guys.

It was late afternoon by now, and the weather was changing, the sky still clear but the hills beginning to look murky. The Good Guys was packed with customers and TVs showing the evening news. Tim bought a Mistubishi color TV and VCR. The act of writing such a huge, perfectly good check seemed to exhilerate him. He was very cheerful as we drove home.

Two more lost franchises. Pier 1 in all its shabby-chic glory had been a favorite of mine since high school. What I mainly remember about its stores are the shadows and the mingled scents of cotton fabric and dried plants. Now it only exists online so that sneezy ambience is gone forever. The Good Guys was, like most electronic stores, my idea of Hell.

As for the TV, it was what was then considered the height of TV technology at the time — a large bulky cube. Buying TVs seems to have made the men in my life inordinately happy. I remember years ago purchasing a flat-screen with Michael, and him riding in the back with it, holding it upright, his cheek pressed against the box as though comforting a newly adopted pet.