Mom and Pop til you Drop...
I watched 'Wal-Mart, the High Cost of Low Price' last night. So now I hate Wal-Mart. Like good documentarians, they have succeeded in swaying me totally towards their point of view, and I, like a good self-absorbed first world audience member, have neither the time nor the inclination to verify or challenge any of the information they offered.
Honestly, though, it's not that tough to verify, even for a horsewithblinders like me, that corporations are driving away small businesses from many of America's towns and cities. Where my parents live, for example, there is a Wal-Mart...an empty main street, a handful of restaurants only open on the weekends, two thrift stores, a small (franchised) grocery store, and that's about it. There's something insidious about it, I'm just not smart or 'informed' enough to know exactly what it is. I used to be curious when a shopping center was built, wondering what would go in it. Now, as soon as I've seen the first sign go up, I know exactly what will be in it. You see, these corporate chains roam in packs, packs that seem appealing because of the variety they offer, the attractive light wood and silver decor, the modest black and white photo reproductions of the 'first' (insert gimmicky name here) and it's elderly but tireless founder.
Homes, too, seem to take that approach. What happens when you plan an entire neighborhood at the same time, using the same materials, conception, budget, plans, square footage, and firm?
You get cut-out homes. Homes where children need to see the color of their mother's minivan in order to know which door to open. Homes where the backyard is reduced to a wooden contraption, whether called a porch or a balcony, hanging from the rear, suspended over the 12 square foot plot of sod inside the 'privacy fence'. (Incidentally, I like those fences better when they were just trees--at least they grew leaves and didn't necessarily impale you for climbing them).
So, what do we do with this menace. Well, people like their burritos. And their lattes and their 3.5 bathrooms and their 'kids eat frees'. I don't think boycotting is necessarily the most pragmatic or purposeful way to go. How about just looking for a store that isn't a chain and shopping there. There are still restaurants, book stores, hardware stores, hobby shops and neighborhoods out there that smack of individuality. There are people working very hard to preserve those investments. Instead of getting an overpriced tea that a slave child knelt to pick while the sycle of despotism and genocide threshed the air over its head, go get a soup or a sandwich that can't be gotten in the same packaging on every third block in your city, sit in the park, under some trees, and, just for an hour or two, try to de-envision the American Dream.
Honestly, though, it's not that tough to verify, even for a horsewithblinders like me, that corporations are driving away small businesses from many of America's towns and cities. Where my parents live, for example, there is a Wal-Mart...an empty main street, a handful of restaurants only open on the weekends, two thrift stores, a small (franchised) grocery store, and that's about it. There's something insidious about it, I'm just not smart or 'informed' enough to know exactly what it is. I used to be curious when a shopping center was built, wondering what would go in it. Now, as soon as I've seen the first sign go up, I know exactly what will be in it. You see, these corporate chains roam in packs, packs that seem appealing because of the variety they offer, the attractive light wood and silver decor, the modest black and white photo reproductions of the 'first' (insert gimmicky name here) and it's elderly but tireless founder.
Homes, too, seem to take that approach. What happens when you plan an entire neighborhood at the same time, using the same materials, conception, budget, plans, square footage, and firm?
You get cut-out homes. Homes where children need to see the color of their mother's minivan in order to know which door to open. Homes where the backyard is reduced to a wooden contraption, whether called a porch or a balcony, hanging from the rear, suspended over the 12 square foot plot of sod inside the 'privacy fence'. (Incidentally, I like those fences better when they were just trees--at least they grew leaves and didn't necessarily impale you for climbing them).
So, what do we do with this menace. Well, people like their burritos. And their lattes and their 3.5 bathrooms and their 'kids eat frees'. I don't think boycotting is necessarily the most pragmatic or purposeful way to go. How about just looking for a store that isn't a chain and shopping there. There are still restaurants, book stores, hardware stores, hobby shops and neighborhoods out there that smack of individuality. There are people working very hard to preserve those investments. Instead of getting an overpriced tea that a slave child knelt to pick while the sycle of despotism and genocide threshed the air over its head, go get a soup or a sandwich that can't be gotten in the same packaging on every third block in your city, sit in the park, under some trees, and, just for an hour or two, try to de-envision the American Dream.
posted by Master of None at 7:33 AM
1 Comments:
There's nothing worse than arriving in one town, only to realize it looks exactly like the town you just left. What does that do for the soul, to grow up in a place with virtually no identity of its own?
I suspect the Mark Twains of the future will be looking back, not on their childhood of rafting down the Mississippi, but of hanging out in a 7-11 parking lot. "Remember the time we smashed that bottle & the owner came out to yell at us?" "Yeah, man, that was a hoot."
And then everyone goes to Europe & says "hey, these cities are gorgeous." As though we couldn't construct buildings like that in America if we still had any sense of grace left.
Post a Comment
<< Home