I Wish I Were a Sociopath

The mental tirade that kicked off this piece began the other evening in Trader Joe’s, just after I returned from a ten-day trip for Thanksgiving in New York to visit the family.  Normally, TJ’s has far cooler than regular supermarket music, usually vintage-ish, Blondie-like bops that play on maximum rotation in your head long after you’ve left the store, until you hear something else to replace it.