Fun fact: In 1993 the first year Kmart opened on Thanksgiving, I was working there as an assistant manager, my first job out of college. Due to all the outrage by employees over the decision to stay open, it was mandatory for all management to work that day. We compromised and split the day into half-shifts so no one would have to work the whole day.
There was a special "Thanksgiving day only" ad to accompany this. One of the advertised items was doormats, pictured in several styles. Business was slow that day, but about noon, an elderly man approached me on the salesfloor asking for the doormats. I took him to the aisle, and showed them to him, and he proceed to chew me out because we didn't have in stock one of the exact designs pictured. I apologized for not having that particular item and tried to suggest he chose a different style from the sale items. He then told me, "You just ruined my Thanksgiving."
Yes. Those were his exact words.
After my shift ended, I drove 2 1/2 hours to my family's Thanksgiving dinner, and spent about three hours there before driving back home so I could be at work on time for Black Friday.
Please notice, this was nearly 20 years ago.
Guess what. Nothing has changed, and now practically everyone is following suit, and Kmart is grabbing some free publicity by opening at 6 am and staying open ALL DAY (gasp.) If anyone thinks they are the least bit concerned about all the threats to boycott them, you are naïve. They are already patting themselves on the backs for their genius plan to remind people that Kmart still exists.
There have been 20 years now to "boycott," and yet nothing has stopped.
Why?
Because even though many people are lovely, and will not shop on Thanksgiving, there are still enough grouchy, selfish people out there who will. I have never forgotten that surly old man, or his rude words to me. If he's still alive, I'm sure he's not the least bit concerned about what day he shops.
And for those of us who won't shop that day? No problem. Kmart, Target, Walmart, Sears, Old Navy, Kohls, Best Buy, Macy's and JC Penny will be happy to take your money any other day from Nov 29th thru Dec 24th. Christmas is next folks, and these guys aren't backing off.
What would your shopping season look like without ANY of these stores? I doubt any of us would do that. But think about it when you're spending your money, it all goes to the same bottom line.
I liked working in retail, especially the holiday season. I thought Black Friday was a blast! Crazy, but fun.
But there's no denying the corporate greed and lack of compassion that rules these big companies overall. It's there everyday, not just on Thanksgiving. It's there when they try to skimp out of providing benefits and pay for their employees. It's there when they lowball suppliers, forcing them to cut costs and quality, so that you can't buy a blender that won't break in a year anymore. Its there when they cut people's jobs right after the holidays and squeeze just a little more work out of the lucky ones who are left. It's there when CEOs bankrupt the company with their big bonuses and are more concerned about their stockholders than about their customers.
So what's my point? I guess, just to say, try to remember your outrage for longer than just Thanksgiving day. We live in a country that supports this kind of corporate activity. If that's not what you want, it's going to take big changes, not just a commitment to stay home on Thanksgiving like you always do.
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Reality Check
I just got back from an "unplugged" vacation, at the lake where I checked my phone daily for Wi-Fi or data access, but only managed to sneak a peak at facebook and e-mail for 20 minutes or so, late Friday afternoon. Saturday night, I got home and after the kids were bathed and in bed, I settled down for some long overdue "nettime."
Don't ask me why. Hours later, I was none the wiser about anything important. If any friend had a crisis or a celebration, it was lost in days of cluttered posts. The "news" articles I read were short on facts but long on links. I read an article about new guidelines for child car seat use, which referred to a 5-point checklist for when your child is ready to move out of a booster seat and use adult seatbelts. The checklist was not in the article, only a link that led to . . . . NOT A CHECKLIST, and after a few additional clicks on likely-looking links, still no checklist.
I moved on, not letting this one little glitch get in the way of all the INSTANTANEOUS awesomeness of the internet. Next up, an article about public breastfeeding, which I could tell would be GOOD because of the comparison to all the over-exposed, oversexualized images and attire we see everywhere. Never mind that my days of public breastfeeding were a mere blip on the radar of my life story. The three weeks per child between the "half-hour per side thank-you-very-much-mom" newborn days, and the "oooh, look at all that stuff I've never seen before" phase of a slightly more alert 4-month-old, was a very small window, during which I never experienced any unpleasant intrusions from strangers.
About five minutes into the article, I was getting riled up, for really no reason. Realistically the two to three morons who managed to make headlines by bullying breastfeeding women, are no more significant to "womankind" everywhere than the two or three morons who park across two parking spaces in the hell-lot at 14 mile and Orchard Lake.
Then I made the mistake of reading a few comments. Sure enough, within the first few, someone made mention of God, which is, on the internet, an automatic trigger for someone to claim the point made is invalid because it depends on belief in a "sky fairy."
At this point, I logged off, but my brain was still logged on, and I started wondering, what value am I getting out of all this internet information? It's all geared to short attention spans, which is not really a problem that I'm afflicted with. And it's all steeped in distance, anonymity and lack of accountability. Make an error online, and if you get called out on it, you can just update, and pretend it never happened. Or ignore it because no one knows who you really are anyway.
In real life, I can't imagine any of my friends, who know me, who know my level of intelligence, skepticism and integrity, dismissing my real belief in God, as a fantasy of a "sky fairy." If anyone would, I'd welcome an opportunity to discuss our beliefs over coffee (or over drinks if that's your preference). But I suspect, that's not a conversation most of us want to engage in, in the "real world." So why do we engage in it online?
For a week, I was unconnected. And I didn't miss anything. One day, I wondered about that famous Canadian hockey player, whose name I couldn't remember. So I asked someone (no, NOT Google) and then I did my head-slap, "of course, Wayne Gretzky, how did I forget that?"
I'm thinking about how to spend less time online. About limiting my access to "lunchbreak" or late evening. Resisting the urge to "clickthrough" to that interesting, controversial and ultimately, meaningless article. Because isn't what's really at stake, what happens in reality? In MY life, under MY sphere of control and influence? The idiocy of some stranger half-way across the country shouldn't really be getting under my skin. Let their own friends and family step up to their support. I've got enough on my plate.
I realize it's a bit hypocritical to be posting this ONLINE. I'm not saying there isn't anything of value online, or that it's not possible to make real connections and real friends. But I need to focus, and make sure the time I'm spending here is enhancing my life, not depleting my hope for the future of humanity.
Don't ask me why. Hours later, I was none the wiser about anything important. If any friend had a crisis or a celebration, it was lost in days of cluttered posts. The "news" articles I read were short on facts but long on links. I read an article about new guidelines for child car seat use, which referred to a 5-point checklist for when your child is ready to move out of a booster seat and use adult seatbelts. The checklist was not in the article, only a link that led to . . . . NOT A CHECKLIST, and after a few additional clicks on likely-looking links, still no checklist.
I moved on, not letting this one little glitch get in the way of all the INSTANTANEOUS awesomeness of the internet. Next up, an article about public breastfeeding, which I could tell would be GOOD because of the comparison to all the over-exposed, oversexualized images and attire we see everywhere. Never mind that my days of public breastfeeding were a mere blip on the radar of my life story. The three weeks per child between the "half-hour per side thank-you-very-much-mom" newborn days, and the "oooh, look at all that stuff I've never seen before" phase of a slightly more alert 4-month-old, was a very small window, during which I never experienced any unpleasant intrusions from strangers.
About five minutes into the article, I was getting riled up, for really no reason. Realistically the two to three morons who managed to make headlines by bullying breastfeeding women, are no more significant to "womankind" everywhere than the two or three morons who park across two parking spaces in the hell-lot at 14 mile and Orchard Lake.
Then I made the mistake of reading a few comments. Sure enough, within the first few, someone made mention of God, which is, on the internet, an automatic trigger for someone to claim the point made is invalid because it depends on belief in a "sky fairy."
At this point, I logged off, but my brain was still logged on, and I started wondering, what value am I getting out of all this internet information? It's all geared to short attention spans, which is not really a problem that I'm afflicted with. And it's all steeped in distance, anonymity and lack of accountability. Make an error online, and if you get called out on it, you can just update, and pretend it never happened. Or ignore it because no one knows who you really are anyway.
In real life, I can't imagine any of my friends, who know me, who know my level of intelligence, skepticism and integrity, dismissing my real belief in God, as a fantasy of a "sky fairy." If anyone would, I'd welcome an opportunity to discuss our beliefs over coffee (or over drinks if that's your preference). But I suspect, that's not a conversation most of us want to engage in, in the "real world." So why do we engage in it online?
For a week, I was unconnected. And I didn't miss anything. One day, I wondered about that famous Canadian hockey player, whose name I couldn't remember. So I asked someone (no, NOT Google) and then I did my head-slap, "of course, Wayne Gretzky, how did I forget that?"
I'm thinking about how to spend less time online. About limiting my access to "lunchbreak" or late evening. Resisting the urge to "clickthrough" to that interesting, controversial and ultimately, meaningless article. Because isn't what's really at stake, what happens in reality? In MY life, under MY sphere of control and influence? The idiocy of some stranger half-way across the country shouldn't really be getting under my skin. Let their own friends and family step up to their support. I've got enough on my plate.
I realize it's a bit hypocritical to be posting this ONLINE. I'm not saying there isn't anything of value online, or that it's not possible to make real connections and real friends. But I need to focus, and make sure the time I'm spending here is enhancing my life, not depleting my hope for the future of humanity.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
This is why I went on Strike
I spent some time with the kids toys recently, for the first time since I went on Toy Strike about two years ago. Toy Strike is my refusal to have anything to do with toys. I will not clean them up, organize them, fix them or find them. I had to do this for my own sanity.
Back when I had one one-year old baby, I read that you shouldn't overload your child with too many toys. Choose a small selection and rotate the toys weekly. Toy rotation became my Sunday night chore. I'd watch Law and Order Criminal Intent, and I'd assemble the toys, neatly organized in their clear plastic storage boxes, and bring out the next set. I'd even do cool things like arrange various stuffed animals and small toys in fun little action scenes ready for the child to enjoy.
That was before what I now call the 2nd Christmas Toy Explosion. In case you are a new parent, let me explain. You think you have the toy situation under control. Your baby has a few favorite toys and LOVES them. Your child will be perfectly content with these few cherished items. There is no way, you think, no way, you will ever let your home turn into a Toy-opolis, like some of those other parents who obviously just can't manage to say no.
It's simple, you just inform the grandparents and other friends and relatives that you'd prefer they not give toys as gifts. And they happily comply. They give your baby cute bibs, and funny socks, and board books, and you feel all wonderful and smug and in-control.
Until the 2nd Christmas, when baby is now a todder, suddenly, Grandma and everyone else, toss your rules out the window because they'd rather bribe cute little toddler smiles and hugs and kisses with mounds of Giant Plastic and Stuffed Objects.
Of course the bribes work, so for 2nd Birthday they come bearing more of the same, until suddenly, Sunday night, you realize it's 2 a.m., you're watching an infomercial, and you still haven't finished organizing and rotating the toys.
Fast forward five years, and multiple rounds of toy purging, the dreaded chore of going through the toys and making separate piles like they advise on Hoarders. My piles are like this:
Keep:
A few special dolls and stuffed animals. Quality toys and games that will stand the test of time. Fun toys that the child plays with on a regular basis.
Donate or Sell:
Nice toys from the 0-18 month age range that are gathering dust. Toys that require excessive assembly and/or set up space, and therefore are rarely used, despite how cool they may be. Stuffed animals of forgotten origin.
Discard:
Fast food toys. Toys with missing pieces. Dollar store toys. Broken toys. The Barbie doll with one leg. Battery operated toys that no longer work, despite numerous attempts to replace batteries.
However, the children have very different ideas as to how these piles should be organized:
Keep:
All items that mom agrees should be kept, PLUS: EVERY SINGLE STUFFED ANIMAL, (hugging it tightly) "because I love it sooooo much." (kisses stuffed animal). Every toy that makes an annoying noise. Every toy that comes with more than 10 pieces. Every battery operated toy, because "you can FIX it, it just needs new batteries! PLEASE!" Any fast food toy which is not broken. The LEG from the broken Barbie doll, which has been named "Leggy" and is a recurring comic-relief character in all imaginary play scenarios. The ads for additional products that were included in the box with another toy, and are now serving as treasure maps.
Donate or Sell:
The porcelain doll/piggybank/figurine that grandma gave you when you were born which is inscribed with your full name and birthdate, birth weight and height.
Discard:
The Barbie with one leg. The broken fast food toys. The expensive rocket and space station because one astronaut has lost his helmet. Broken crayon pieces smaller than one centimeter only. Random scraps of paper. Dirty Kleenex.
Needless to say, negotiations get complex and stressful and lead to temper tantrums and tears, and I really don't like my kids to see me that way, so . . . the Toy Strike has been reinstated.
Back when I had one one-year old baby, I read that you shouldn't overload your child with too many toys. Choose a small selection and rotate the toys weekly. Toy rotation became my Sunday night chore. I'd watch Law and Order Criminal Intent, and I'd assemble the toys, neatly organized in their clear plastic storage boxes, and bring out the next set. I'd even do cool things like arrange various stuffed animals and small toys in fun little action scenes ready for the child to enjoy.
That was before what I now call the 2nd Christmas Toy Explosion. In case you are a new parent, let me explain. You think you have the toy situation under control. Your baby has a few favorite toys and LOVES them. Your child will be perfectly content with these few cherished items. There is no way, you think, no way, you will ever let your home turn into a Toy-opolis, like some of those other parents who obviously just can't manage to say no.
It's simple, you just inform the grandparents and other friends and relatives that you'd prefer they not give toys as gifts. And they happily comply. They give your baby cute bibs, and funny socks, and board books, and you feel all wonderful and smug and in-control.
Until the 2nd Christmas, when baby is now a todder, suddenly, Grandma and everyone else, toss your rules out the window because they'd rather bribe cute little toddler smiles and hugs and kisses with mounds of Giant Plastic and Stuffed Objects.
Of course the bribes work, so for 2nd Birthday they come bearing more of the same, until suddenly, Sunday night, you realize it's 2 a.m., you're watching an infomercial, and you still haven't finished organizing and rotating the toys.
Fast forward five years, and multiple rounds of toy purging, the dreaded chore of going through the toys and making separate piles like they advise on Hoarders. My piles are like this:
Keep:
A few special dolls and stuffed animals. Quality toys and games that will stand the test of time. Fun toys that the child plays with on a regular basis.
Donate or Sell:
Nice toys from the 0-18 month age range that are gathering dust. Toys that require excessive assembly and/or set up space, and therefore are rarely used, despite how cool they may be. Stuffed animals of forgotten origin.
Discard:
Fast food toys. Toys with missing pieces. Dollar store toys. Broken toys. The Barbie doll with one leg. Battery operated toys that no longer work, despite numerous attempts to replace batteries.
However, the children have very different ideas as to how these piles should be organized:
Keep:
All items that mom agrees should be kept, PLUS: EVERY SINGLE STUFFED ANIMAL, (hugging it tightly) "because I love it sooooo much." (kisses stuffed animal). Every toy that makes an annoying noise. Every toy that comes with more than 10 pieces. Every battery operated toy, because "you can FIX it, it just needs new batteries! PLEASE!" Any fast food toy which is not broken. The LEG from the broken Barbie doll, which has been named "Leggy" and is a recurring comic-relief character in all imaginary play scenarios. The ads for additional products that were included in the box with another toy, and are now serving as treasure maps.
Donate or Sell:
The porcelain doll/piggybank/figurine that grandma gave you when you were born which is inscribed with your full name and birthdate, birth weight and height.
Discard:
The Barbie with one leg. The broken fast food toys. The expensive rocket and space station because one astronaut has lost his helmet. Broken crayon pieces smaller than one centimeter only. Random scraps of paper. Dirty Kleenex.
Needless to say, negotiations get complex and stressful and lead to temper tantrums and tears, and I really don't like my kids to see me that way, so . . . the Toy Strike has been reinstated.
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