Bargains come with added, hidden costs
I really don't know why I'm writing this letter to the editor because I know that it won't do any good. It won't do any good because I want to say something that runs contrary to a concept that America demands — the
bargain.
I am a businessman in this town and have been for almost 20 years. In that time I have experienced some of the finest moments and memories of my life; which could never be duplicated in any other pursuit I could have chosen to undertake. I've met great customers that have become friends; I've given employment to people that have appreciated the work and run the extra mile for our company; I've had the opportunity of making my own business decisions in an atmosphere of free enterprise and honest competition in an open playing field. I will always appreciate and cherish these things for my remaining years.
But something is happening to our area that has happened to all of America — the bargain. It's not just a bargain, it's the big bargain, the whole enchilada. We, as consumers, have been handed the largest, most diversified, least ignorable, most convenient, "one-stop shopping" bargain ever experienced in our lifetimes. It comes in the form of huge, cinderblocked affairs that house products specifically chosen for the consumer group of the area. After intense market surveys by teams of market researchers, they open with a display of goods laid out like a huge banquet. And it all comes in the form of a bargain.
There is no problem with that. Everyone loves a bargain. The cinderblocks know that. They know they can appeal to the buyer as no one has ever appealed before. The sad part of the story is it works. The bargain always works.
In all of this, there is also the undeniable truth of boarded up small businesses all across the country. Small and large towns hollowed out of existence and stripped of those little dreams of being self-employed, providing a donation to the high school band uniform drive, sitting on the city council, hiring good people who need a job that doesn't demand a corporate mentality, and being able to catch up on the local gossip. It's all gone. Wiped out of existence forever — for a bargain. That's why it's fruitless to write this letter, I can't change human nature and I certainly don't want to. I'd just like to take this opportunity to plant the smallest seed of doubt in your mind the next time you pull out your wallet to buy that bargain. The bargain comes with an added cost, you see.
Steve Holmes
Sandpoint
Arcadia Greenhouses