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Deck
the Halls With Boughs of Flip-Flops
by Mad Dog
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It’s morally,
ethically, and theologically wrong. If god wanted me to wear shoes right
now he’d turn the thermostat down and shut off the Atlantic wave
machine. |
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I’m starting to think
that, in spite of the moldy adage we’ve all heard a million times, it
might not be such a bad idea to carry coals to Newcastle. Of course I
first have to use Google to find out where Newcastle is. I’m also
starting to think that selling ice to the Eskimos might be a good thing
to do too. I’m sure I’d make a fortune, and it’s not because I’m
a good salesman. Quite the contrary, I’d actually have trouble selling
a hamburger to Louis Anderson after a three-day fast. The truth is,
I’m discovering it can be very hard to find the things you need, when
you need them. Especially where you need them the most.
Case in point—I’m in Florida in
September where the temperature is in the upper 80’s, the beaches are
crowded, and I can’t find a pair of simple men’s flip-flops. You
know, the footwear 80% of the people under the age of 45 are walking
around in and 99.9% of those under 25 are wearing. Where they bought
them is beyond me, because I’ve been running all over town trying to
find a new pair and it feels like I’d be just as successful looking
for an alligator in the kitchen sink. Probably more so.
The problem seems to be: A) there are
too many chain stores, and B) chain stores assume that people in
Minnesota, Vermont, and sunny, warm, flip-flop weather-filled Florida
all want the same things at the same time. That’s why I may have to
come back here in November when the stores break out the scarves,
mittens, and snow shovels. “Oh look, Target is having a sale. Lets
stop and pick up a snow blower on the way to the beach.” Ah, the
stories I’d be able to tell my grandchildren one day. “Please
Grandpa, tell us again about the time you bought a windshield ice
scraper for your car in Fort Lauderdale!”
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What the
merchandisers need to do is set aside a few of the SpongeBob NoPants
Hunks of Saturday Morning Cartoons calendars and look at the current
page once in a while. Like every day. |
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It’s like going to Maine and not being able to buy a lobster,
or finding out there are no more wings in Buffalo. It’s like grocery
shopping in Wisconsin and having everyone tell you, “I’m sorry,
we’re out of cheese, but we expect to get some in about eight
months.” It’s morally, ethically, and theologically wrong. If god
wanted me to wear shoes right now he’d turn the thermostat down and
shut off the Atlantic wave machine. I’ve spent most of my life in shoe
weather, and trust me, this isn’t shoe weather.
“But flip-flops are seasonal
items,” you’re probably thinking, and I can’t blame you since
it’s a nice respite from thinking about how lame the Democratic
presidential candidates are, how accurately Madonna’s literary career
is paralleling her movie career, and how there isn’t a single new idea
in the entire new fall TV lineup, in spite of what those incessant
promotional commercials would like to brainwash us into believing. True,
flip-flops are seasonal in most places, but I’m in Florida. If the
stores had any sense they’d round up all the leftovers from northern
back rooms and warehouses and ship them here. You know, to a place where
people want, need, and are looking for them.
Unfortunately the people who run
stores don’t think that way. They think far in advance. Or shall I
say, they try to make us think far in advance. Flip-flops are off the
shelves now to make room for winter items. This is fine, except that
when it does get cold and you desperately need a coat you’ll never
find one because that will be in January and by then they’ll have
pulled the coats off the racks and put out the bathing suits. Need
gloves? How about a nice halter top instead? Sorry you’ll freeze since
we don’t have any ski caps left, would you like some water skis
instead?
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You’ll be able
to buy lawn chairs and coolers in August when every other store is
hawking Halloween candy, and windshield scrapers for that February snow
storm when the stores have sunscreen, can coolers, and barbecue grills
on display. |
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What the merchandisers need to do is set aside a few of the
SpongeBob NoPants Hunks of Saturday Morning Cartoons calendars and look
at the current page once in a while. Like every day. Hey, it’s not
even October and I saw them putting up Christmas tree displays in
Wal-Mart. It’s true. Yes, both the part about them putting out the
Christmas decorations and the fact that I was in Wal-Mart. Hey, I was
searching for the Holy Grail of footwear. You remember, those
mythological flip-flops? And no, they didn’t have them either.
Maybe the answer is to start my own
chain of stores, called Off Season. When other stores pull their
merchandise from the shelf, I’ll buy it. That way you’ll be able to
purchase bathing suits in the summer when you’re ready to go to the
beach, and sweaters in the middle of winter when you’re freezing and
the stores are pushing shorts and tank tops. You’ll be able to buy
lawn chairs and coolers in August when every other store is hawking
Halloween candy, and windshield scrapers for that February snow storm
when the stores have sunscreen, can coolers, and barbecue grills on
display. You’ll also find flip-flops. Lots and lots of flip-flops. All
year round. Maybe I should change the name of the store to Heaven on
Earth.
©2003 Mad Dog
Productions, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
These columns appear in better newspapers across the country.
Read them when they're still in season.
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