Food experts constantly sing their mantra “Shop the Periphery” if we want to eat healthily. Healthy is defined as sitting down to eat from plates that contain two-thirds colorful fruits and veggies (especially greens), and only one-third protein. So instead of trolling the food aisles, I tried periphery shopping at our local grocery store.

Before I say anything else, you should know that I, as a cancer survivor, do not take talk of eating well lightly. And I still appreciate the humor in my prostate being stabbed with a dozen or so biopsy needles, which is nearly as much fun as grocery shopping.

Girl Scouts were selling Thin Mints and Tagalongs (my favorite) from two grocery carts outside the store. Well, I had to support them by purchasing a couple of boxes. I figured that their being outside the store qualified as their being on the “periphery.” I noticed that they pretty much kept their new vegan cookies hidden and were smart enough to carry few of them.

I passed through the automatic doors and hung a right to the Deli. After purchasing its specialty–a hot, greasy whole chicken–, the pastry section next confronted me on the periphery. I hit the freebie “Try Me” pastry counter hard, cramming a triple chocolate cookie and a day’s old slice of sugar cake into my mouth. I did buy a frosted Bear Claw roll and eyed a fancy chocolate birthday cake for my wife’s upcoming birthday.

The meat section covered most of the back corner of the store. With beef being so expensive, I had to hit the sales meat specials to pick up some cheaper burger (not lean) and less desirable cuts that might be tenderized if let soak for several days in a sauce containing enough chemicals to start to break down cellular structure. Also picked up some franks and some pizza pepperoni, whose nearly banned chemicals might also soften up the poorer cuts.

On to the liquor and wine section against the back wall! Past that came displays of what’s being advertised on the cable “Nor Available Anywhere Else, You Saw It Here, It’s AMAZING!” TV channels. I picked up a spray can of Flex Spray sealant, thinking that both my bathroom and my personal plumbing might need it after my shopping trip and eating. Guaranteed to plug leaks.

Near the light bulb section, I picked up some motor oil in case I decided to ever drive to the store again. As I wandered the remaining walls and far corners, I picked up some bird seed and suet blocks, being concerned that the wild birds might not be eating square meals either. The way the song sparrows have behaved over the years, there did not seem too much prostate cancer in the males or cancers in any of them, but one can never be too sure. The bird food contained nuts, so I figured that eating nuts was about as healthy as it gets for birds, particularly when they have a source of greens and protein around them most of the year. Ignoring what I just said, I threw a bag of moss killer into my cart to kill some of that green.

On the way to check out, I avoided buying any electronics, jewelry, and in-store pharmacy drugs, although some Pepto was tempting. I would stop at the do-it-yourself blood pressure testing booth, but I already know what the readings would say after this shopping trip. Avoiding the arm-squeezer, I squeeze past the long line of non-shoppers at Customer Service, most of whom are trying to wire money out of the country or return goods. No food here, but I hope the wire transfers will buy somebody some food somewhere, as I’m not having much luck on the periphery.

The automatic lottery ticket dispensing machine near the restrooms beckoned me. I realize that lottery tickets do not represent food, but they could. Some of my leafy green went into the machine.

Near the check outs, some miniature toys and trading cards made in China and in plastic blisters occupied a display next to the rack of batteries of various sizes. The toys visually echo in miniature my greasy chicken sitting in its blister. The only things left to buy to eat at the check stand were some Tic-Tacs and other breath mints. Some of the mints had some green in them, so that was something. I suppose I could have purchased a copy of The National Inquirer or one of the other tabloids, and that would be called eating it, but I had no stomach for them.

On the way out, the store offers one more chance at food and drink. The coffee stand–with its sweets and outstanding feature of self-serve soft drinks, also in Big Gulp sizes.

It was worth buying some more Girl Scout cookies on the way out. Unfortunately by the time I returned, the Girl Scouts in their green uniforms and pin bandolier sashes had departed, as had their cookie boxes the color of brilliant veggies and fruits reminiscent of well balanced meals if you use your peripheral vision.