In which old Steve rants for a bit, and then current Steve concurs

A cure for the world's woes - June 16, 2006

So I'm at the grocery store the other day and the middle-aged man in front of me at the check-out is purchasing some food, some dog treats, a rice cooker, and a quesadilla maker (now with easy fold-up storage!)

That in and of itself wasn't an unusual sight. Mind you, it's not always a quesadilla maker - sometimes it's a chocolate fondue fountain, or a novelty shot drinking game, or any of ten dozen Ronco brand products. This time, though, I got a look at the man's face as the cashier swiped product's the bar code. You know the look; it's the one a child gets on his face when you tell him you're going to give him a treat, and he realizes it's ice cream.

Pause a moment from reading this entry and think back. You know the look I describe, and I'm sure you can rattle off at least five items off the top of your head that you had that same great feeling about, but which are now stashed in a closet, in the basement, or under your bed. For me, at least, the majority of them are electronics, but that may reflect my base interests. They tend to be easily hidden from view when you bore of them (video games, computer gadgets, etc.) and more an impulse buy.

I guess what bothers me most in this case isn't that the product will likely only get one or two uses and then be donated to Goodwill, but that the product makes something that you can easily make without it with virtually no cooking knowledge required! To me, this is the worst thing. These packages promise delicious foods (or beautiful pictures, or tasty treats, or whatever) and in the end it's nothing more than a bulky, unnecessary crutch that exploits insecurities about our own abilities.

Add in the fact that none of these things are cheap, and then think about how much you actually profit in an hour. Not how much you receive in pay, but how much you keep after taxes, utilities, rent, and other necessary expenses are factored out (and I won't even count groceries in this.) Now calculate how many hours you suffered at your job for the item you just purchased.

Me? I'm profiting about six dollars an hour - that has to cover all my groceries and entertainment, and any unexpected expenses for things like car maintenance. When you get to calculate just how many hours you had to suffer at work to earn it, it certainly puts that Playstation into perspective, doesn't it?

...as I dine on 40% of my last hour's wages.

I'd totally forgotten about that incident at Fred Meyer, but re-reading it now I can still picture the man's face, and the slightly wide eyes, quivering lip and pulled-back smile as the machine went through the scanner and into his shopping bag. The odd part is that I couldn't even tell you who cashed me out at the grocery store yesterday, and yet for some reason that moment stuck with me and will probably forever remain among my synaptic firings. There was only one other time that I can recall a checkout event having a similar effect on me, and that was at the UW Rotunda back in 2004 (I think?) when the man in front of me expressed great delight at the sausages he was about to enjoy. I may have posted about that already, but that still inspires me as a goal -- being able to get that much enjoyment out of simple things in life (be they sausages, sunshine, or a well-crafted song) is something that really forms the core of my current world view. However, as strange as it seems, it's something I've had to work a lot to get back to, despite seeming so basal. I suppose that my own struggles to simplify reflect a more general problem in society, and why we all can't just be happy with what we have, and instead need to get bigger, faster, stronger, pricier.

Lately I've been watching reruns of The Simpsons at dinnertime, and having not watched any TV for over three years I'm appalled at the vapid crap that passes for commercials these days. One that stands out above all others is for some brand of bottled water (obviously they're having such a great impact on me that I can barely remember the ad, despite seeing it about 923743 times in the past week), which touts how green they are by having plants grow out of everyone drinking it. The really galling part is where they justify this green outlook by flaunting the fact that their containers are made from 40% less plastic than their average competitor. Think about that for a minute -- a wasteful and unnecessary item is telling you to pat yourself on the back for being slightly less wasteful! Words fail me, but this seems to be the new trend. Verizon advertises the fact that they get the least complaints of any major cellular carrier. Toyota celebrates the fact that one of their trucks finally hit the 20 mpg mark (but only for highway driving, of course.) The only thing that might top these in the category of sheer gall and absurdity would be if Exxon made an ad filled with happy walruses and shorebirds that were congratulating them for only spilling half as much oil into the Straight of Valdez this time around.