The Yogurt Event Horizon (with apologies to Douglas Adams)

At this time last year, there were exactly zero frozen yogurt shops within, say, three miles of my house. At least, there were none of which I was aware. I suppose there may have been one in the city somewhere, but I never came across one through my normal walking or driving habits.

Currently, there are three frozen yogurt shops within one mile of my house – two of these are less than one block away from one another – and at least three more new shops have popped up in the areas I drive around in nearly every day. There may be more than three; it’s getting hard to keep track. There is also a new shop in the town where I work, and last night I discovered yet another new one in a nearby city. They are all the self-serve frozen yogurt places, the kind where you take a huge empty cup, put in your own yogurt and toppings and the price depends upon the weight , but none of them are the same chain.

I’ve only tried out one of these new shops. It’s in a small strip mall near my house in the site of a former bakery. It was very tasty, but I kind of miss the bakery. I used to get birthday cakes from there. One of the newest yogurt shops just opened up a month or so ago, in the spot that used to be where I got my glasses. If this keeps up, I’m not going to be able to buy anything that isn’t frozen yogurt. Bakeries, opticians, drugstores, grocery stores, shoe stores… all will become yogurt shops. Nothing but yogurt shops as far as the eye can see.  

So let me ask you this: Why is this happening? And is it happening where you live? Why are we suddenly overrun with self-serve frozen yogurt shops? I mean, I like self-serve frozen yogurt as much as the next person, but do we really need three in a one mile radius? It’s kind of creeping me out. I fear that soon, it will become economically unviable to build any store other than a yogurt shop, the economy will collapse, and society will cease to function. And that can’t be good for anybody.

Nora with the camera

When you discover your child has taken a series of photos with your camera, the results can be mixed. Sometimes, it's thirty-seven blurry photos of the ceiling fan. Sometimes, the photos have boring subject matter, but it is an interesting insight into the perspective of someone who is only two and a half feet tall. And sometimes, you are treated to a delightful expose of your own inattentiveness.

Presenting the latter:


Oh, hey, Nora. 'Sup?


Yeah, just talking on my phone here.


Talk, talk, talk.


Whoops, gotta go!


There is something happening in the kitchen.


Skooching my way over, folks!


Oh, hey! You're coming too, Nora?


Hey, Dad.


I'm over here, Nora!


Yes, that is a lovely picture you drew and taped up yourself with fifty-three pieces of tape, Nora, but check this out.


The dishwasher! It's open!


You know what an open dishwasher means, right?


You just reach around in here... it's better when they're putting stuff IN, I've found...


Snacks!