There’s nothing like a bag of nails

February 20th, 2008

One of these days, before too much longer, I’m going downtown to buy a bag of nails. There really is nothing in this world quite like a little paper bag filled with a few nails, and I’ll miss it when it’s gone. When MacDonald’s Home Hardware clears out some shelves next month, a bit of history will disappear with them.

We live in an age where packaging is everything. It’s not about what you sell, but how you sell it; and it is getting harder and harder to find anyone who will sell “some” of anything. A few still do, and I appreciate that.

I appreciate being able to go into a store on main street that sells lengths of chain. When they ask how much chain you need, and you say enough to fit around my neck, and they say chain for the neck is it? getting married? you say no, it’s for a costume, and all I need is some to do the job.

I appreciate being able to go into a store on main street that sells tubs of sugar. When they ask how much sugar you need, and you say about ten pounds or so, and they say ten pounds is it? baking pies? you say no, it’s for an apple cider recipe, and all I need is some to do the job.

I appreciate being able to go into a store on main street that sells bowls of meat. When they ask how much meat you need, and you say about the size of your fist or so, and they say deli mix is it? early lunch? you say no, it’s more like a late breakfast, and all I need is some to do the job.

I appreciate being able to go into a store on main street that sells pieces of fabric. When they ask how much fabric you need, and you say about the size of a pocket or so, and they say fat quarter is it? going quilting? you say no, it’s to put patches on the patches of my old blue jeans. Well, they used to be blue, and they used to be new, and they used to clean, and all I need is some to do the job.

I appreciate being able to go into an establishment on main street that sells cold beer. When they ask how much beer you need, and you say enough to quench a powerful thirst, and they say pitcher of draft is it? late breakfast? you say no, it’s more like an early lunch, and it’s twelve o’clock somewhere, and all I need is some to do the job.

Basically, I can appreciate any place that doesn’t feel the need to wrap everything up in a pretty little package. There has been a push in various circles lately to ban plastic bags, to keep them out of landfills, and make the world a cleaner place.

India, for example, has started to seriously crack down on its use of plastic bags. It seems that cows, which are sacred there and free to wander anywhere they like, have been strolling into landfills and munching on plastic; and there is nothing sacred about a cow with 50 kilograms of plastic clogging its digestion. Plastic bags are only one small part of a larger problem, but it certainly couldn’t hurt if we also tried to cut down on the dizzying amounts of packaging we cram into them.

One little bag of nails is not going to solve the world’s waste management problems, but it is going to fix my squeaky floorboards and loose pieces of trim—and I won’t need 100 or 500 or 5,000, or the packaging that a handful of nails now comes in. All I need is some to do the job.