But with rain about to fall this afternoon, and with me still feeling the need for my walk, I decided to go with Eileen to the local Stuff-Mart. I wasn’t looking to buy anything. I just wanted to get out on a rainy day. So, I went on a “walk” around the store. It was a strange experience.
I used to drive around, shop, and go to all these stores for years, and I didn’t think much about it. But for the past six years, I have basically given up driving—I don’t trust my reflexes, for one thing, especially when I’m not feeling well. Also, ever since kids started getting driver’s licenses around here, there’s rarely been a car available for me to drive. Now they’re all living with spouses and children, or with friends, and they have their own cars. (Jojo is the only “kid” still at home, and she has a very busy social schedule. I still couldn't get a car even if I wanted one. But I don’t mind; I’m happy if I can just get out of the house every day. We live in a beautiful place.)
So, I wasn’t going much to stores. Then came the Great Plague of four years ago. I think many people have forgotten how strange that time was, and have readjusted to their “normal” hypermodern lifestyles again as if nothing ever happened. I expect, however, that more—perhaps worse—crises loom ahead for the coming generations. We simply can’t keep living this way for very long. Things have grown way out of proportion. Everything has become monstrous.
Of course I already know all about this phenomenon. I use the many-headed monster of the internet. But when you shop on the internet, there can be a false sense that shopping is still somehow a quaint matter. In spite of the fact that everything is for sale (including the information you give using websites and making purchases), internet shopping still feels like a “private” and focused exchange you carry out on you tablet or phone. Everything (including the ubiquitous advertising) is limited to a small space that you hold in your hand while surrounded by your own familiar environment.
The Big Box Retail Store, however, is not filtered by any media. It’s a monument to raw consumerism in all its enormity and immediacy. It’s designed to have “all the stuff” you could possibly desire for your material purposes. I suppose if you go in to buy specific things and you know where they are, you can ignore the surrounding mountains of other things.
But I just went in there to get a little walk while Eileen picked up a few particular items she had on her list.
It was GIGANTIC! These places are bigger than ever, with more sections and more shelves packed with more junk than ever.
I feel like it’s too much! We don’t need all these things to live dignified human lives. Don’t misunderstand me: I’m not claiming to be better than anyone else. I am immersed as much as anyone else in this culture-of-too-much-stuff. My house is full of too much stuff. But I’m used to my own junk. That doesn’t make it any healthier for my soul.
I walked through the store and looked at the colossal shelves of junk, and wondered how long we could continue to live this way, how long would it be before everything just blows up…
