This weekend, I joined my fellow Americans in what looks to be a repeatable, frequent activity. I stood alongside my brethren - Black, White, Hispanic, Middle Eastern, Asian, and every other imaginable flavor. We walked through the tiled miles, watching, hunting, and at times even fighting for our rights to obtain food cheaply. No, we were not in bread lines, nor were we in some post-apocalyptic scene from Mad Max. We were in Walmart. Yes, Walmart, Friday night, for food shopping. And I am less of an American because of it.
I am not a snob. Walmart is no better nor worse than any other big box store, though the brand of loser in Walmart on a Friday night is indeed special. I had never been on a Friday night, and will likely choose better in the future. But we wandered the halls of Walmart looking for the best China has to offer. We found aisle after aisle of bargain, and we spent about 2/3 to half of what we normally spend on groceries, and found everything, if not more than in our normal supermarket. And for this, I should lose my right to a veterans funeral.
I say these disparaging remarks not to take away from the millions of American shoppers who frequent Walmart - I too will be going back. We have been forced into these conditions by economic challenges, and the realities that saving at times like these is all that much more important. I make these remarks because I am angry - I know, big surprise - that Walmart has taken such a share of the market, that they can afford to be so low in cost, and in turn that they can pressure their suppliers to be so much lower for Walmart that they make it impossible to compete, fairly and freely. How does a local supermarket ever open their doors when Walmart is cutting them 50 cents on the dollar? Impossible to start right from the beginning.
In addition, when Walmart squeezes their vendors so tightly, the vendor is forced to ship their manufacturing overseas. Once they transfer the manufacturing for Walmart overseas, they ship all of it there - It fails to make sense to do anything here, if they have to do any manufacturing there - which in turn castrates American manufacturing. Even if we could make it better here, we wouldn't, simply to save a few pennies. Interesting to note, while sitting over lunch a few weeks ago, I was talking with an MBA and a PhD candidate - two fairly smart guys. I posed the question, what do we as a nation still produce and product well. My MBA friend, whose family was in textiles, pointed out that his family still produces some of what they did many years ago (surprisingly nylon stockings). However, we couldn't name anything else, besides cars (and they didn't really make the "Produces Well" category. This is shameful.
Worse still is the fact that everything is found in Walmart was disposable. There was nothing which seemed to have an enduring quality - Clothes were fairly single use - no handmedowns. Furniture was pressboard, and would look lovely for 4 years, and then look lovelier in a landfill. Toys lined the shelves, and the video game areas far outsized the sporting good areas (at least the baseball, football type sporting goods) and the toys for the most part would not survive the attention switch of a four year old, let alone pass from an older child to a younger one. Tags on all of the products read "Made in Somewhere Else". And the icing on the cake was Walmart's weak attempt to sell us a non-plastic bag for our use to carry crap into our homes, hung at the check out below eye level, and out of the way. I guess the profit on those is lower.
While this began years ago, Walmart exacerbated the issue by controlling so many diverse vendors from televisions to TV dinners and left us with an additional economic catastrophe to deal with. Their sole saving grace is that they do in fact pass on these savings to customers, and this does help many Americans. I found myself watching the people in line as we checked out. The old black man, with US Army Retired on his baseball cap. The young Hispanic couple, he in his work clothes, and mom carrying the young infant, with their daughter in tow. The stereo-typical 40-something, single mother, white woman with her cigarette pack in her back pocket of the too tight for her age jeans, smacking candy from her kids hands while they waited in line, and us, another couple in this sea of hundreds, just trying to save some money, in hopes of finding an American dream, and watching Walmart push it just a little farther out of reach.
On a side note, there is something ironic about buying ammunition and food at the same time. Where our forefathers worked the North Carolina landscape into crops and hunted food with their ammunition, I now buy ammunition to forget about the economic and other life challenges we face today, and I buy my crops with labels from Peru so I can have my blueberries in February. As I have said in the past, Globalization is grand, but better still is that I am so far from the hunter/gatherer that I don't think I know my place in the food chain anymore. . .
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