Prose before Hose
Been many long years since I’ve made political or economic gestures, commentary. As divisive as it can be, I try to steer clear, not wishing to offend anyone. Recently, though I got to where I needed to purchase a garden hose. The old one has spent too much time in the sun and was rotten at the ends, spending more time spewing and less time directing a steady stream.
Happens with age.
So that meant I stepped into a local box-box retail giant, possibly the largest retailer in the world. Looked in the outdoor section, no luck, asked where the garden hoses were, “Inside, row three, righthand side.”
Sure enough.
But walking out? I passed an aisle display of personal toiletry items. Small deodorant sticks, tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner, little bars of soap, and assorted sundry items, all in “travel size.” All on sale, $4 each.
I used to buy such stuff at the dollar store, and not so much, the days. I used up a fairly large stash of such travel products during the pandemic lock-down, and I never really replaced much. I’ve been using a regular size toothpaste, shampoo, and assorted other toiletries in their normal containers, just easier these days. Besides, I don’t travel as much.
I leave a bag packed — in case.
Those are purely convenience items, first-world price point problem. But cost has increased, quadrupled, over the last year. Was a dollar, now costs $4.
Inflation.
All of this, I wouldn’t even be there, but I needed a hose. Graphic illustration of how prices have skyrocketed.
One of my fishing buddies was busy texting me images from the coast, him posing with a number of undersized fish. I was looking for a hose.
Like Shakespeare said?
Prose before Hose
Prose before Hose
