September 17, 2014. The Stuhr Museum, Walmart and More, All Right Here in Grand Island, NE.

 

 

 

 

September 17, 2014.  The Stuhr Museum, Walmart and More, All Right Here in Grand Island, NE.  The Stuhr Museum of the Prairie Pioneer is closed for remodeling.  However, the grounds are open and are ripe with history.  There is a teepee symbolic of the American Plains natives, a Pawnee earthen lodge - large enough for 20-30 people, 100 year-old barns, schools, churches, log cabins, even a vintage locomotive and narrow gage tracks around the grounds to an 19th century railroad town. 

When the museum reopens, it will feature harvesting equipment from the olden days.  The museum promises to be a top-notch attraction for tourists.  It is worth the ten minute drive off I-80.

Walmart, now that's another deal.  I am a big fan of Walmart.  It offers common goods for the common man at common prices.  Nothing fancy, if there's something you need, you just go to Walmart and pick it up.  It doesn't matter whether it's food, sporting goods, clothing, medicines, electronics, whatever, Walmart has it.  And, it has it at a good price. 

But, after today's trip to Walmart, I am thinking of becoming a Target man.  What happened, you ask?  Well, I will tell you.   There was not a single checkout stand with a checkout person waiting to help me.  I was funneled into the box-of-terror.  Once inside the 50' by 50' space, I discovered that I was boxed in by self-checkout machines.  There were two machines on each side of the box, eight in all.  There was no way out, other than to self-checkout your purchases and exit via the only opening toward the front of the store.  My blood pressure shot up 20 points. 

Now, I am okay with technology.  See, I am typing this blog on a computer connected to the Internet with an air card.  I carry an iPhone 5 and am first on the list for the iPhone 6.  But, those self-checkout machines scare me.  What happens if you have fruit or something else which is sold by weight?  I just know the machine will lock up and the light on a post will start flashing and rotating.  I am surprised there isn't a siren on the thing.  It is bad enough that it keeps repeating, "You need help.  Help is on the way." 

I know I need help.  I don't need everyone else in the box-of-terror to know it, too.  The first time I needed help, Annie had taken grapes out of a pre-packaged bag because it had more grapes than she wanted.  Nevertheless, the scanner rang up the full price.  Dorothy, queen of the box-of-terror, short, 50-ish, hair color by L'Oreal, sauntered over with her pocket of keys and ID cards.  She swiped her card, jabbed a few buttons, keyed in the fruit code, the machine beeped and she walked off.  "Hey, wait," I wanted to say, "Show me how so I can do it myself next time."  Too late.  Dorothy, Queen of the box was gone, strutting her stuff to another shopper in his sixties. 

Three more times the machine began to twirl its lights and announce to all the other Walmart shoppers that I needed help.  The final time, Dorothy was trying to assist another senior with the purchase of a six-pack of soda.  I saw him just turn his back on Dorothy and walk out of the box, out of the store, leaving his six-pack in Dorothy's hands.  He was defiant to the end.  Gosh, I was so proud of him.

Dorothy placed the six-pack in a return-to-shelf cart, and came over to my machine.  The machine didn't know it, but it was seconds from having its light punched out.  She scanned her ID, jabbed a few buttons and turned on her heels.  "This experiment is a colossal failure," I said.  Dorothy ignored me.  "This is a COLOSSAL FAILURE," I shouted! 

Annie, "Shhhhh . . . . , she is just doing her job."  I would not be restrained, "I'll take my story to Bentonville!  I WILL!!!"

Annie took my elbow and led me out of the store.  I was mumbling as we passed the greeter who wished us a good day.   "Too late!  I'm going to Bentonville, I say!  I am going to Bentonville!!!"

So, we returned to the campground and biked while I regained my equilibrium.  Later, we cooked out and life returned to normal.  We settled in Harvey for the evening and Annie said, "We need to go back to Walmart tomorrow.  We are out of olive oil."

"Okay," said I.  Walmart rules the world.  I might as well get on board.  I'll learn the self-checkout machine, just like every other Walmart shopper.  Walmart will further reduce its payroll and continue to offer common goods at common prices for the common man. 

I will do that, but my spirit is still with the old-timer who handed Dorothy his six-pack of soda and walked out of the store.  He is a rebel and I wanted to be him.  But, I had $106.00 in groceries, including fixings for s'mores.  What's a road trip without s'mores?