Republic of Wal-Mart

Like most Americans, you probably have a profound nostalgia for good ole' Main Street, the family-owned hardware store, and the cannons in front of the grand ole' City Hall. Me, too. Unfortunately, Beaver Cleaver grew up, sold the business, and now it's a trash-filled lot that is sometimes used as overflow parking for the annual labor day parade. Hey, it's not Wal-Mart's fault. How many times did you look in your wallet and think, "hmmm...well, I guess i don't mind paying $2.13 a pound more for meat to support the local butcher," or look at your watch and think, "well, little Tina needs a hair-cut, I have to go to the bank, get dinner, and get my prescription filled...I guess I have time to go to four or five places just to save Main Street." No, you didn't. You went to that big place on the outskirts of town that used to be a corn field so you could save time and money. Didn't you? Hey, me, too. I wish I could be a "buy American, support local business" kind of guy, myself, but I will pay less for the cheap crap made in Communist China, mostly because it's convenient and cheap. Sorry, I gotta be me. We ought to be realistic, folks, the Main Street you grew up with is gone. Think of this; all Wal-Mart needs is a school and a fire department, and they are Main Street. That's right, at my Wal-Mart, I can do my banking, get a hair-cut, do my taxes, buy hardware, get a sandwhich from Subway, buy my Levi's, get a new DVD, have a family portrait taken, get a flat tire repaired, and buy my groceries. What the hell do I need Main Street for, except as a way to get to Wal-Mart? Imagine this, too, if you will....Every Wal-Mart in the the next fifty years builds huge apartment complexes on top of their stores, maybe even has a factory built right next door to manufacture those plastic bags, a police station in the basement, and a beautiful new park next door to it all, and Presto! The City of Wal-Mart! Heck, I'd like to be the Mayor of Wal-Mart. It'll be great, just think. In a few short decades, we'll have completely eliminated the need for townships and villages entirely. Everyone, to one degree or another, will work for, buy from, and live in Wal-Mart. You'll meet strangers in the aisles, saying, "So, where are you from," and you'll respond, "Well, we're originally from Automotive, but we moved to Housewares last month because we heard the school district is better." They'll say, "Oh, I have a cousin from Automotive," and so on. Maybe after one hundred years, Wal-Mart will be so big, a North American Union will be possible with Mexico and Canada....The People's Republic of Wal-Mart. And we can all be proud of ourselves, because we made it possible by buying cheap crap from China that you have to bring back to customer service every other day. Are you as excited as I am, folks?