Corporate plumage
This may be hard to believe. I just watched the finishing minutes of a marathon, not for the first time. And even with all that good example, I have no urge to run from here to there (or any other segment of highway that measures 26.2 miles / 42.2 kilometers). Either I have remarkable self-restraint, or a good dose of middle aged common sense. Or both. Check back this time next year, and I will try to give more feedback.
In fact, the only thing I did today was head on down to the box store and purchase 1000 yards of plastic wrap. Tightly rolled. In a pinch, I could use it to lay out my personal marathon distance (complete with best time). Or wrap sandwiches from now until the end of the year. What does merit mention is the skill set needed to locate that roll of plastic. Box stores have evolved.
When I was young enough to need accompaniment to go shopping, Canadian Tire had a catalogue based model of marketing and sales. We received the book at home, we dreamed and then we headed down to lower Queen Street. There, over the counter, a clerk would seek out our merchandise in the back room (closed to the public). Wait a few, pay, take your alternate currency and leave. Simple. Functional .Fun, in so many ways.
Fast forward to a store with about one hundred aisles, carefully packed with just about everything I could ever need. Beef jerky, paper towels, solar panels, a frying pan, plastic wrap. All arranged according to a pattern that I fail to decode. Worse, the management flips the floor plan every few years. Prevents complacency.
On a good day, clerks in showy red smocks (corporate plumage, perhaps) can be queried. The amazing thing is that they always know where stuff is, right down to the appropriate aisle (which is why I know how many units are in use). Now that’s a useful skill set! I can be in and out without getting lost, or dizzy from the contact with millions of dollars in necessary products.
