Facebook Lockout Period Ends

Picking on Facebook seems like beating a dead horse these days.  However, it bears comment that the lockout period for insiders to sell their Facebook shares has ended, and as predicted by many, a whole host of them sold their shares and flooded the market and the share price has tanked to less than $20.

What is weird about this is that it was a predicted event - if you bothered to read the press and not the rah-rah cheerleading.  No one can say they did not see this coming.  So why did people buy the stock?  Because people are idiots - look around you.

A friend of mine logged onto Facebook and I saw her "feed" which included a comment that Suzie Q went to the outlet mall and shopped at something or other store.  This is where Facebook is trying to go, to get you to act as an advertisement for the places you shop and the products you buy.  It is creepy to the nth degree.

On the TeeVee at the same friend's house, a new report (repeated six times, so I did not miss it) about a Facebook camera/scanner that will be mounted at the entrance of various businesses to track your every movement and then publicize where you went and what you bought.

"Uncle Fred went to the XXX Adult theater and bought a dildo!   342 of his friends LIKE this!!"

Um, creepy weird invasion of privacy.  And people will sign up for this?  Well, they won't, but they have the option of "opting out" of it.

Of course, the ultimate "opting out" of Facebook is to simply close the account, which I think I will do, once I migrate my photos to Picasa.  There is an app to do this automatically, although you lose the captions and it does require Chrome, which sucks.

Oh, our mighty corporate overlords!  How can we serve them better?  By voting for Romney, of course!

Trailer Park Mentality

Some folks will spend more money fixing up a trailer than they would spend on a modest home.

Traveling by RV is interesting, and it can be quite economical, if done on a budget.  However, some folks take a good thing and take it too far.  They park RVs permanently in a RV park as a "cheap vacation home" and pay hundreds of dollars a month in lot rent, and hundreds more trying to make an inexpensive trailer into a quasi-house.

It starts out with a few lawn decorations - pink flamingos are popular.  Then Christmas lights are added.  Perhaps a deck is then built next to the trailer, since the occupants get tired of sitting in the mud.   Then plantings go in - flowers, shrubs, even small trees.  Or tropical plants (in northern climes) and then watering systems to keep them all growing.

Then, like most older RVs, they start to leak, so the owners build a roof over the RV, often in a Pole-Barn fashion.  And since this is all permanently constructed on an RV space in an RV park, they are now obligated to continue paying lot rent, lest they lose their "investment".

In some instances, a second RV is added as a guest room.  Then the cars start to multiply.  And of course, you need a golf cart, to drive around the campground in.  Pretty soon, it starts to look pretty trashy - a pile of crap that is rusting, damaged, sun-bleached, and run down, and of course, mildewed.

And the cost?  Overall, it runs into the thousands, actually the tens of thousands of dollars.  Enough money to actually pay for a small vacation cabin on a private lot in the mountains.  And such a vacation cabin would end up being worth something, in the long run.  A trailer "ensconced" on a lot in an RV park, on the other hand, is worth zero in terms of resale value.

So why do people do this?  We see it at every private RV park we've stayed at, which is why we stay in State Parks, National Parks, National forests, or Army Corps of Engineer sites.  These latter locations are campgrounds, for camping in, not building half-assed vacation shanties.

So, why do people do this?  Why do they engage in economic behavior that makes no sense at all, costs them more money in the long run, and provides them with a run-down shanty to live in when on vacation?

It would make more sense to rent a vacation cabin, or even to buy one, if you plan on vacationing at the same place every year. 

But it is the cash-flow mentality at work here.  People think in terms of money-per-month and not overall costs.  So dumping a $5000 trailer on a $450-a-month RV site seems "cheaper" than borrowing $150,000  to buy a rustic cabin in the woods.  The monthly cost of the latter could be the same, and the overall cost could be zero - if the cabin and land appreciate in value.   Even renting a cabin would be cheaper and less hassle.

But those transactions sound more expensive, as they involve larger amounts of money up front, even if the same is spent overall.  Over a period of several years, an RV'er who lives in a trailer and builds a deck, adds a roof, installs a water feature, adds sculptures and plantings, ends up spending as much as, if not more, than the fellow who makes payments on his log lodge.

It seems cheaper to build a make-shift cabin out of an old RV, a little bit at a time, but each pink flamingo adds to the overall cost until the comparable cost is the same.

But a second question is this:  Why do people obsessively decorate these ensconced RV's to the point of tackiness?  We are talking signs, fountains, sculptures, tableaux, flags, awnings, plantings, etc. that cover every inch of the campsite and make it look like a junkyard, particularly as it all degrades and mildews over time.

Oh, and lets not forget lawn lights, particularly the solar variety.

The answer is of course, twofold: The big-box store and the credit card.  Throw in a little boredom, and you have a perfect storm.  The camper goes off to his weekend retreat in the woods and realizes quickly that he is bored out of his mind, particularly when he is sober.  So, he and the missus drive into town to the local friendly Lowe's or Home Depot, and are enthralled by an end-cap display of a water-spitting frog or a solar powered lawn sign.  And pretty soon, they've loaded up their car with crap made in China and are spending their afternoon unpacking and setting up it all.

And the credit card is dinged by another $99, $199, or even $299, for a yard-full of crappy junk.  And pretty soon, the camper cannot even be seen from the road, it is so covered with stuff.  It is unappealing and ugly, and eventually, the owners stops coming, but keeps paying $450 a month for lot rent, as they don't have the energy or heart to tear it all down and make it go away.

How do you avoid this trap?  It is simple.  Never park an RV as a permanent "house" particularly in an RV park.  You are not "saving money" this way, you are just creating an expensive eyesore that will burn a hole in your wallet and make you unhappy in the long run.

A better approach, if you really want a vacation cabin, is to look for a spot of land and build a cabin or at least put a park model cabin on it.

But resist the urge to add pink flamingos..... at all costs.

The Blue Ridge Parkway

Camping on the Blue Ridge Parkway is life in the slow lane.  If you like peace and quiet, this is it.

This is our eighth trip up the Blue Ridge Parkway, and after eight trips, I still feel like I am just figuring it out.

When you talk to most folks, they say, ”I tried driving that once, but it took so damn long to get anywhere, that I just gave up and got back on I-81!”

And, sad to say, the first time I was on the Blue Ridge, I felt the same way.  It took forever to get anywhere, and the pace was so slow.   If you stopped at any of the overlooks or points of interest, well, you wouldn’t get anywhere at all!

But of course, that is the point.  To drive the Blue Ride Parkway and really enjoy it, you have to spend at least a week or so – more if you want to include Skyline Drive.  And driving more than 50 miles a day would be ambitious, to say the least.  500 miles?  Never.

But that is the nature of the beast – you come here to see things, not to travel.  Travel becomes secondary to the experience.  And unfortunately, most folks don’t get this – as I didn’t, at first.

Traveling with our small RV makes this a more enjoyable trip.  There are a number of campgrounds, built, apparently, in the 1930’s, and sized for a Ford Model A.  As such, they work well for smaller campers, who don’t need “full hookup” or indeed, any hookup at all.

If you want to watch television, stay at home.

Every morning we wake up and hike – usually only a few miles – or go kayaking, if there is a lake nearby.  The pace is slow.  And by noon or so, we are ready to head down the road – at the leisurely pace of 35 mph or so.  We have a one or two-hour drive at this pace.  We stop for lunch at a picnic area, make lunch, and go on another hike.

Most folks would rather barrel down I-81 at 80 mph and shovel a McBurger down their gullet while their car is refueling, as they want to "get there" faster.  And many of these people don't have jobs or limited vacation time - they just want to get back to their routine of watching television and bitching about the President.

The Blue Ridge Parkway is not really a roadway, I realized, but a linear park, connecting by a road.  And that right there is the fundamental difference between how some people enjoy it and others are frustrated by it.  Those who stop often and enjoy the scenery have a good time.  Those who rush through, find it a waste of time.

A word of caution, though.  If you like to drive slowly, good for you.  But it is not your job to control other people.  If someone is behind you, pull off at one of the many “balconies” on the roadway and let them go by.  There is nothing more frustrating that a long line of cars with some idiot at the lead who jams on his brakes at every leaf he sees.

Similarly, if you are going to stop, pull off the road.  People actually stop in the road, particularly on Skyline Drive, which on the weekends is populated with know-nothing government yuppies from the DC area.  They stop to look at a Deer (big deal, I have seven in my front yard) or, on one occasion, because they treed a bear (bad, bad idea).

It is a leisurely pace, yes, but it is not a ride at Walt Disney World, nor is it a golf-cart path, where you can just stop where you want to.  The rules of the road still apply, and common courtesy is still a good idea.

And if you see a deer by the side of the road, yes, slow down.  But keep going.  Stopping and taking pictures is a really bad idea – and a good way to get rear-ended.

It takes almost two days to get used to the pace.  Many folks give up after the first day and cross over to the Interstate to "make time".  Some folks - many folks, enjoy driving as an activity.  But it is very bad for you - very sedentary, while simultaneously raising your blood pressure.  A sure-fire recipe for a blood clot and a stroke.

At the other end, you may find it takes several days to get used to "reality" again - strip malls, fast-food stores, and the great mass of humanity, such as at the commercial campground we are in right now.   Most people here would not enjoy the Blue Ridge Parkway as there is no water slide or other "amusement" for the children, and it would "take too long" to drive a 30-foot trailer down the road.  The idea of walking as an activity is lost of most Americans.

And sadly, the campgrounds on the Blue Ridge are in poor repair and very lightly used, particularly during the week.  Even the "campground hosts" flee during the week, as they cannot get their cell phones to work, nor internet access.

But sometimes, getting away from it all is exactly the point.  I look forward to going back again - and again - and spending more time, each time.  I want to take more of those hikes - there are thousands of them.  And see more of it.  After eight trips, I think we have barely scratched the surface.

And then there is the Natchez Trace...

Spelunking the Brain

The human brain is incredibly complex.  Yet few of us think about how our own minds work - and often work against us.

I did not start this blog to ridicule or run down others.  Maybe that is the impression I convey, but that was not the intention.  Rather, I am trying to do what I call "Spelunking the brain" - my own brain, in this instance.

Spelunking, if you do not already know, is a term that is used by cave explorers and refers to the process of investigating a cave by rappelling down to its depths to investigate its most dark recesses and crevices.

And that, in some respects, is what I am trying to do with this blog - spelunking my own brain, so to speak, to understand my own economic decisions - or lack thereof - in my own life.

Nearly every economic practice that I have criticized here, is some practice I have committed myself, to my own detriment.

The point is - and there is a point - is that repeating the same poor economic choices over and over again does not validate poor choices as good ones, but rather only anesthetizes us to the fact we have made poor choices.

The serial new-car buyer or leaser never stops to think about overall costs, but rather bootstraps each decision as validating the next.

And in the same way we all tend to re-validate poor financial planning as being actually smart thinking.  "Hey, I'm getting frequent flyer miles!" we think, not "Gee, I'm getting ass-fucked by a 25% interest rate on a balance than never seems to disappear!"

It is comforting to think the former, rather than the latter.

Perhaps it was the recent recession, or that combined with hitting age 50 and realizing that life is finite and in fact, winding down (and was, in fact, always winding down, from the get-go) that made me think about these things more and more.

Today, my personal freedom means more to me than monthly payments or the latest electronic subscription services, so many Gigabytes per month for so much of my money, like blood dripping from a broken vein.

No, I would rather own myself, than sell myself, piece by piece, to media companies and finance agencies.

And that is what I have discovered, after exploring these more deep and dark recesses of the brain.

You may, of course, think otherwise.

Be An Individual – Like Everyone Else!

Can you be an individual while wearing a uniform?

There is an ad on the TeeVee these days – well it is on the Internet, anyway, and I think I saw it on the television at the bar the other day, which was showing the Olympics, which were as boring as watching paint dry.

The ad is interesting in that it set a lot of  normative cues, among them that you can create your own identity as a series of brand-name choices.  You can be a unique being, merely based on your consumption, not your creativity.  So what you buy says who you are, not what you create or do.  And in a society where very few people do anything of importance, this is an easy message to sell.

The ad was for Doctor Pepper, which is a sickly-sweet drink made even more sickly-sweet by the introduction of High Fructose Corn Syrup.  Drinking just one of these a day is about 10% of your daily caloric intake, and all of it in carbohydrates.   It is just plain bad for you – poison – like all soft drinks.  So, like with cigarettes, they have to “sell” you on the idea of drinking this crap, when you could just drink plain old water for free, and be far better off.

In the opening sequence, a fresh-faced young man tears off his shirt to reveal a purple t-shirt underneath, reminiscent of the “Be a Pepper!” campaign of the 1970’s.  Only, ironically, it says instead, “I’m an ONE OF A KIND!”

During the rest of the ad, everyone sings and dances and tears off their clothes (suggestive right there) to reveal similar t-shirts with similar slogans.  Since the sound was turned down, I can’t tell you what they said or sang.

But by the end of the ad, the whole street scene is given over to identically dressed people, all singing and dancing in unison, with the “I am ONE OF A KIND!” guy in the foreground.

What struck me as odd was that the tag line for the star of the ad was about being an individual, while everyone wore the same corporate uniform, sort of like the Wehrmacht, or at least the Brown Shirts.

And yet the conflicting message was about individuality.  And it struck me that this “rugged individualism” message that is so prevalent in America, and is often used by advertisers to snooker us into making poor economic choices.

I mentioned cigarettes earlier, and they are probably the granddaddy of this whole concept.  “Come to where the flavor is, MARLBORO COUNTRY!” we were told, and the image was of the lone cowboy, riding the range in the manner of John Wayne - the iconic rugged individualist, scorning convention and striking out on his own.

Of course, that is sort of a myth itself, isn’t it?  Have you ever noticed that all cowboys pretty much dress alike?  I mean it is almost like a uniform itself – the Stetson hat, the vest, the six-shooters and gun belts, the chaps and boots, and of course, spurs.  No one rode the range in, say, a three-piece suit and a bowler.  Well, maybe a couple did.

This struck me again while driving the Blue Ridge Parkway.  It is a popular destination for motorcyclists, as you can ride a motorcycle here without too much danger of being hit by a car (bicycles? Another story).  And motorcyclists, particularly of the Harley variety, are sold on the image of the “rugged individualist” as well – the lone biker, riding the highway in search of adventure.

But, oddly enough, they tend to travel in groups, and also dress alike, in terms of hair styles, clothing styles, tattoos, and the like.  As individualists, they are remarkably conformist.

But this dichotomy in intent and behavior is nothing new of course – and begins early in life.  Teenagers glare at you and say, “what are you staring at?  I am just trying to express myself as an individual!”   But of course, they look like every other teenager out there – down to the piercing, tattoos, and weirdly colored hair.

They are not so much identifying themselves as true individuals, but as part of a larger social group.  They are distinguishing themselves from YOU, but cloning themselves to be more like their social peers.

Being truly unique or different, on the other hand, is sure to cause you no end of grief, at least in terms of interaction with other people. 

For example, I used to have a motorcycle, a Russian-made BMW clone that Stalin had ordered built before the war.  They still make them.  It even had a sidecar.  I bought it for $4000, drove it for a few years and had fun with it, and sold it for $4500.

It was fun and unique, but the reaction from people was interesting.  People who were not motorcyclists thought it was retro and interesting, which it was.  Motorcyclists, on the other hand, were very negative about it.  It threatened them – it was not something in their vocabulary.  The Harley folks were outright hostile.  The BMW and Japanese bike people were disdainful.  No one were merely neutral.

You don’t fit into the club unless you are part of the gang – and do and say as everyone else does. 

Think about it.  In the movie Wild One, which made Marlon Brando's career, were the hoodlum outlaw motorcyclists really being different or individual, or where they just copying each others' behavior?  Far from being rugged individualists, they were rather just conforming to a new social norm within their own group.

Today, the motorcycle industry has co-opted this image and used it to sell a "lifestyle" to millions.

So you have to expect such hostility and outright ostracism, if you truly want to be an individual or "be yourself"  – or just do what you want to do in life, instead of what society thinks is a swell idea (which often than not, and often involves you spending money and working hard).

People are threatened by change.  They are nervous without their normative cues to guide them.  When you don’t conform to the societal norm, they will shout you down – and not because you are wrong, but because they are worried that you might possibly be right.  And if you are right, then what have they been doing all their lives?  Wasting time and money?

Probably.  And that scares the crap out of them.

UPGRADES!

Today, we are sold things in terms of Upgrades.  But 30 years ago, this word hardly existed.

About 20 years ago, I recall attending a wedding of one of my Cousins.  My smart-alecky older brother (the pinko communist hippie scum) had a tape recorder with him, and was recording messages from various guests.

He played the recording back later on, smirking at the things other people said.  He was like that, always standing off to one side and sitting in judgment of others, as if their base instincts were somehow above him.

One of our other Cousins had just married, and his new wife, slightly drunk in an effort to cope with the simultaneous onslaught of 100 in-laws, was going on about how she and her husband had just bought an end-unit townhome with “all the upgrades!”

It had upgraded carpeting!  Upgraded kitchen!  And the upgrade sun nook, of course!  My brother found this all very funny, as the term “upgrade” was not bandied about back then (in the mid 1980’s) as much as it is today.  Like the word “Disrespect” it seems to have weaseled its way into the lexicon.

Back in 1970, for example, the term “upgrade” might have currency only with an over-the-road trucker, who would view such an event with trepidation and much downshifting.  And upgrade was, back then, a steep hill.

Today, the term is commonplace.  You go on vacation and you upgrade your flight to business class – or first.  And when you land, you upgrade your rental car from a compact to a midsize.  And your hotel room?  Upgraded to a suite, of course.

We are sold upgrades in every way in every day of our lives.  Would you like to upgrade that to a Supersize meal?  Of course you would.  And you don’t want a “short” latte at Starbucks.  No, you upgrade to a tall, with a caramel shot or whatever it is they eat there.  You upgrade your computer, your car, your cable TV service, and of course, your cell phone, when your plan permits it.

Or, if you buy a car, particularly a new car, they pressure you to “upgrade” to the next trim level.  You want an iPod interface?  That only comes with the SE or LE upgrade, which includes the V-6 and automatic transmission.  No one wants the “Sally Stripper” of course!

Many people chase upgrades all their lives and don’t think about how they came to be or why they are chasing them.  All they want to know is, what is the secret to obtaining an upgrade?

Tell us, Bob!  Tell us the SECRET to the FREE UPGRADE!

You really want to know?   Really?  OK, here it is:

Spend more money.

You see, that is what “Upgrades” are all about – an attempt by the marketing department to get you to spend more than you intended.

Back in the day, they did not have upgrades.   If you wanted to fly First Class or stay in a Suite as opposed to a room, you paid extra.  But a funny thing happened.  People didn’t want to pay extra, which meant a lot of first class seats and hotel rooms were going unsold.

How to sell these to people who couldn’t afford them?   Offer them as “upgrades” – that’s how.  They still end up PAYING more than they would have, but they feel they are getting a “bargain” and thus lunge at the deal like a Pavlovian dog.

And of course, one way to “sell” the upgrade is by the false price comparison.  For example, you are staying at the Ratisson Motel, which has 100 regular rooms and 25 super-suites.  The marketing people find that most folks will spend $75 to stay in the rooms, but balk at paying $125 for a “suite” which is just a slightly larger room with a $75 dorm fridge and a $25 microwave.

So the rooms remain unsold at $125.  BUT…..   If you tell people the “suites” are ordinarily $250 a night and then offer the rooms as an “upgrade” for $50 more than a regular room, you will sell out every suite in the place.

Suddenly, thanks to faux price comparisons, a bad deal looks like an attractive one.  And the folk staying in the suite, instead of spending $25 on breakfast, spends $25 on groceries at the local store, and microwaves their treats, convinced they are doing so much better than the plebeian “regular” guests.

And that is what the “upgrade” comes down to – status-seeking.  Just as my Pinko Commie brother enjoyed lording over the people at the wedding, convinced (or at least acting as if) he was better then they were (because he was not subject to their baser instincts) the upgrader loves to lord over those less-fortunate, or those too stupid to “buy up” to cabin-class, suite-status, or a one-car-grade-level upgrade.

AND WE ALL DO IT.  I won’t sit here and, like my Brother, pretend that I am better than you or anyone else.  We all seek status.  And when you drive a 2012 Piece-O-Chit LE, you look down your nose as those who could only afford the “SE” or God Forbid, the “Base” model.  You are, of course, better than they are – you bought the upgrade!

Today, the word “upgrade” is buried in our lexicon.  In 1989, at the wedding we attended, the word seemed odd and strange.  But since then, the marketing gurus have done a good job of selling us on the concept.

Get a frequent flyer miles card, and get free upgrades!  There is a $25 processing fee, of course, and you may have to buy additional blocks of miles.  But it’s FREE, right?

Or, maybe not.  Maybe they are extracting a few extra dollars from your wallet to sell you something that costs them nothing – and empty airliner seat on a plane that is leaving in ten minutes.  And you bite – we all bite – on this tasty tidbit or morsel, convinced we are being smart and have somehow outwitted the airline – whose airfare computer was programmed by people with advanced degrees in Number Theory, whose daily conversation would alone make your head hurt.

No, you did not outwit anyone or anything.  You were lead, like cattle, down the chute to the abattoir, to face the captured-bolt gun, which punctures your cranium, and hopefully kills you instantly and painlessly.  If not, to be hung by your heels and bled out with a quick knife-thrust to the jugular.

That is the nature of Upgrades.  It is baiting behavior of the first order.

And what of my Cousin and his wife and their upgraded end-unit town home?  They divorced a few years later.  Perhaps she was hoping to get an upgrade.  Or perhaps he was, I am not sure.  Whatever the case, I am not sure it is worth chasing after “upgrades” in your life.

Chances are, they are just bait to get you to spend more money, over time.

The Mart

The Mart in Atlanta.  The largest shopping mall you are not allowed into.

We are in Brevard, North Carolina, which is sort of a tourist town.  Strike that, it IS a tourist town.  You can tell a tourist town by a number of factors.  One is that it has a lot of people from out-of-State visiting there, and two, there are a number of locals grousing about “all those tourists” even as they earn their living from the tourist trade, directly or indirectly.

And of course the smiling local Real Estate Agent, with her perfect hair, will sell you a vacation home here – or a permanent one, so you can become a “local” (vesting period, two weeks) and then grouse about all the “tourists” as well.

These sorts of towns require some sort of festival of sorts, and here it is the “White Squirrel Festival” based on the prevalence of white squirrels in the local arboreal population.  Apparently this is considered quite unusual, although I remember at Syracuse University we had these black squirrels on the quad, that were small and had shiny black fur, and very thin tails.  Come to think of it, they could have been rats.  I am not sure.

So, everything has a white squirrel theme, and we are all very amused by it, or at least supposed to be.  We’ve decided to play along.

Another thing a tourist town needs is an “anchor”.  Just as a cheesy shopping mall from the 1970’s needed an “anchor” store, such as a Sears or Dey Brothers (department store), these tourist towns need some sort of anchoring event or institution to start the whole ball of wax going.  And here it is the Brevard Music Center, which is pretty well-known and worthwhile coming to see.  There are performances of opera, classical music, plays, the like, by both professional and student performers.

But getting back to Main Street, you see the other de rigeur aspect of the tourist town – the shopping district.  These are the sort of areas that men generally avoid and women love.  And the local activities guide lists “shopping” as an “activity”.

Now, you know already without even me saying, what they sell in these stores – cute stuff, potpourri, scented candles, pocketbooks, jewelry, and of course, the t-shirt that says you’ve been there.   And it goes without saying, that each boutique and shop makes generous use of MAN-AWAY™ Spray (see my posting on that subject).

And you might very well wonder where they get all this crap.  After all, it all seems alike, right?  Do they get it out of a catalog, or what?

Well, you are right, it is all alike, no matter which tourist town you are in, because the owners of these little shops all get their stuff from the same source.

And I’ll let you in on the secret, as I have been to the Mecca, not once, but three times so far.  The shopping Allah would be pleased.

I am talking about the Mart, of course.  Or more specifically, “America’s Mart” which is located in downtown Atlanta.  The original was in Chicago, and I am sure there are others around the country. 

It is huge.  Imagine about six or seven large downtown office buildings interconnected with flying bridges and underground walkways.  This is not some fly-by-night convention, but a permanent installation.  Most wholesalers have permanent showrooms here.  Others rent space for the semiannual wholesale shopping orgies, often simply known as “The Mart.”

If you want to sell jewelry, scented candles, or Christmas ornaments, this is the place to go to meet the people who wholesale them.  You can place your bulk order and even cash-and-carry some items.  Purses, leather goods, watches, furniture, stained glass, sculptures, pottery – you-name-it, they have it.

And once you’ve been to the Mart, well, you can’t go into a gift shop within a 300-mile radius and not see the same merchandise.  And you give the shopkeeper that knowing smile, as you know that those kicky bracelets by the cash register are marked-up 150% from wholesale.

Can just anyone go to the Mart?  No, of course, you have to be in “the trade”.  But that doesn’t stop some folks from sneaking in.  Some ladies we met had badges (you have to have a badge to get in, of course, and there is a hefty entrance fee!) and on their badge is their name and the name of the company they work for.  Maybe I am jaded, but I doubt that “American HVAC Contractors” is buying jewelry for resale.   Rather, these ladies are using their husband’s business as a cover for a little wholesale shopping spree.

They have tried to cut down on this a bit, by limiting the “cash and carry” trade.  At the end of the Mart, many wholesalers sell off their display inventory to the trade, which was always a chance for retailers to pick up some merchandise to take back, and perhaps a little bling for themselves.  But the sneakers who came in under cover were using this as an opportunity for a little personal shopping at wholesale prices.

So, unfortunately, the cash-and-carry business is limited to the “temporaries” for the most part, and not the permanent showrooms.

But you can’t blame those die-hard shoppers for wanting a good deal, right?  And this illustrates how retailing – particularly gift shops – rely on impulse purchases.   They buy stuff for cheap, mark it up a factor of 2 or 3 and hope that you wander into their shop (in the tourist destination) and say, “Gee, I just have to have this!”

And that illustrates why shopping is so hazardous to your pocketbook.  Buying things without carefully thinking over the purchase and comparing prices is, to say the least, reckless.  And unfortunately, the “must have” item at the boutique is likely to be found at another boutique down the road, in the same tourist town or at another one very much like it.

Thanks to the Internet, of course, you might be able to find the same item online.  And who knows?  By the time you get home and think about it, you may decide you don’t really need another piece of tchotchke cluttering up your living room.

Brevard is a nice place, I guess.  But as a tourist town, it does take itself a little too seriously (there are more whackjobs here than in Ithaca, NY, and that is saying a lot).  And we realized that we really don’t want to live in a tourist town, even if we sort of already do (albeit on a much smaller scale).

And no, by dint of having lived there for a few years, I don’t consider myself to be a “local”.