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Fall of the Empire? That Would Be in Aisle 37.
By Kelley Cousineau
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Everybody always talks about the evils of the American consumerism and the
dangers of its unchecked growth, but nobody ever does anything about it.
Self-restraint is for the other guy.
I know this is true because I just came back from CostCo, a temple to the
consumer-driven American economy if there ever was one. And I did not overhear
anyone saying “Hey, maybe we really don’t need that much mayonnaise.”
I always approach this place with an odd mixture of nausea and giddiness, like a
kid who has eaten all the Halloween candy then finds yet another stash of
Snickers. But then the grossness of the place overpowers me and I can’t help
but think that this is it for the
American dream. Manifest Destiny ends right here in front of the inflatable
family pool display.
Everyone knows there are dangers in rampant consumerism. And I’m not just
talking about leaving CostCo with three hundred dollars worth of multi-pack
batteries. That’s just a given.
There are more subtle dangers, like:
Ugly Clothing
Oh sure, that sweater looks okay now, but when you try it on at home it will
squeeze your body into a Michelin Man Doppelganger. There’s something about
pea coats that make them look more appealing when they are on a table with
seventy-five other identical pea coats, and CostCo knows this. Back at home that
lone pea coat will sag like the drunken sailor who should be wearing it.
Embarrassment Overload
People who come in for sixty-four rolls of toilet paper, a gross of condoms and
a vat of Preparation H are likely to suffer Embarrassment Overload induced by
guffaws and furtive pointing from their fellow shoppers. My friends, if you need
that much butt grease it might be time to stop self-medicating and see a doctor.
Death by Adobo
There it is in the tantalizing spice aisle: Adobo. You don’t even know what it
is, but it sure smells good. The lure of the spice trade has driven great men to
do horrible things. Christopher Columbus murdered and enslaved the native
populations he encountered on his quest for spices. That was the beginning of
the end for his empire, and we never
learn from history. The power of Adobo is that strong. Adobo. It just rolls off
the tongue, doesn’t it? Adobo. Yummy, tasty food. Adobo. It’s the sound of
bells tolling for all of us.
Spoiled Pets
Those cushy dog beds are irresistible! They make me want to walk around in a
circle until some inner gyroscope tells me just the right moment to lie down.
That ornate scratching post makes me want to rake my claws in an orgy of
back-arching contentment. But it seems obvious that a society can’t last for
long when spending money on Glucosamine dog biscuits actually seems like a
reasonable idea.
Big Brother
Beware those attractive end-of-aisle displays. They change constantly. The
choice of merchandise is often weirdly clairvoyant. This week it was globes, of
all things. How did they know my kids had trashed our old one? Curse you, CostCo
voodoo priests! Last time the display featured shiny new Mr. Coffee coffeemakers
the very same day my old one broke at home! It’s witchcraft, I tell you.
Bait and Switch
You’re a whore for the tub of Roquefort dressing and they know it. Once
you’re hooked they’ll take it away, never to re-stock it again. They want
you to return over and over, searching in vain. They’ll laugh maniacally as
they watch you settle for French or even Catalina. They even have their
employees trained to answer your pathetic queries with
a standard answer: “Oh, yeah, I think that’s coming in on the next
shipment.” Right, that and the freaking Holy Grail.
Hedonistic Temptations
I know there must have been a time when the world lived without those
deliciously squishy chenille throw pillows, but it must have been a dark, dark
time indeed. It’s impossible to not buy at least two. And then you’ll spot
the Body Pillow.
Vegetable Lasagna
All possible combinations of meats, cheeses and breaded coverings can be found
in the Prepared Foods aisle. I’m not too proud to admit I’ve succumbed to
the temptation of easy, delicious meals-in-a-bag from time to time. But I’ve
always made sure to hate myself afterwards.
Twisted Minions
Who are those wizards in that mystical kingdom of Kirkland who can create
everything from stretchy jeans to plastic-wrapped cheese tubes? What kind of
Metropolis-like factory-complex can possibly be outfitted to produce such
eye-popping variety in such biblical proportions? And what is that guy checking
receipts by the exit looking for? Will I warrant his mysterious black line this
time?
If you can avoid these dangers and walk out of there with nothing but some Dove
soap and a bag of apples then you have more willpower than ninety-nine percent
of Americans. But you’re going to stand out like a sore thumb amongst the rest
of the relaxed-fit Dockers-wearing crowd. What kind of freak are you anyway? A
Frenchman?
We won’t be fiddling when our empire burns. Instead we’ll be reading The
DaVinci Code and the new Nora Roberts that CostCo chose for us. We’ll grab
a fresh pair of tube socks from the new package of ten. For dinner there will be
tasteless slabs of farm-raised salmon and a shitload of salad greens. But there
won’t be any Roquefort. Never, ever again.
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Kelley Cunningham Cousineau is an artist,
children's book illustrator, writer and mother of three devastatingly handsome
sons. Her humorous essays regularly appear in The
Funny Times, BrainChild and Mamalicious
magazines, as well as online at The Imperfect
Parent, EdgeCurve and here on Defenestration.
She's devoted to her boys but she's not above stealing their best Halloween
candy and saving it for herself. She lives with her very patient husband Ed, her
boys and her candy corn stash in Maplewood, NJ. Drop her a line at kelleycc@comcast.net
and tell her you have a lucrative writing assignment for her.
Kelley also has a new column on The
Imperfect Parent webzine called "What's The Matter With Mommy?"
The website is www.imperfectparent.com.
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