Attention Shoppers: we’ve become victims of mass merchandising
manipulation. This came to my attention last week when my electric
blanket died. Its happy little indicator light burned brightly, but
the blanket was cold. Deader than a doornail.
Attention Shoppers: we’ve become victims of mass merchandising manipulation.
This came to my attention last week when my electric blanket died. Its happy little indicator light burned brightly, but the blanket was cold. Deader than a doornail.
Thinking this was unfortunate, but no “biggie,” I traveled with confidence to numerous local merchants that would logically sell electric blankets. But – and this is unthinkable – there was not an automatic blanket to be had in all of South County.
The heartbreaking element of this story is that there is one – and only one – occasion in 24 hours when I can count on being warm and cozy. At the end of the day, I fire up my blanket and leap into bed, luxuriating in the warmth.
This simply wasn’t fair. I was a responsible electric blanket consumer. I followed the laundry instructions. I didn’t remove the “Do Not Remove under Penalty of Law” tags. I didn’t mistreat my blanket by using it to dry the dog.
Since natural gas now costs approximately the same as rocket fuel, I’m used to seeing my breath in the living room. We’ve come to enjoy friendly family gatherings clustered around the clothes dryer as it tumbles a load of socks; the laundry room has become like a second home to us.
But the thought of diving into bed sans the preheated warmth from my automatic blanket was about as inviting as stretching out between layers of permafrost.
It didn’t help that caring young clerks assured me, “Gosh, you should’ve come in yesterday – we had TONS of electric blankets and they were all on CLEARANCE,” and “Check back with us later…we expect to get more in around Christmas.” Struggling to absorb this catastrophe, I drifted aimlessly up and down the aisles hoping to spy just one lone blanket left behind in the rush.
What I DID find packed into every nook and cranny was SUMMER stuff. Lots and lots of summer stuff. Never mind that it was 34 degrees outside.
Inexplicably, I found myself getting into the spirit of things. Wow – what cute bikinis! And clever plastic margarita glasses to serve drinks out by the pool, colorful inflatable lounge chairs to float on while listening to Jimmy Buffett…Wahoo – Time to plan a POOL PARTY!
When suddenly – Whoa! In the nick of time I remembered WE DON’T OWN A POOL, and I haven’t ventured outside in a bikini since the 60s. My brain, numb with cold, was showing signs of serious deterioration.
I tried to console myself that some days ARE getting a little warmer. But when the sun dips down behind El Toro, it’s like being wrapped in a cold, wet sheet. Seriously warm weather is months away.
Desperately, I began to think of plausible alternatives to an electric blanket. I could hit the drug stores to purchase stacks of heating pads and sew them all together. But running a sewing machine through all those electric wires was probably not a great idea. And retiring at night with my extremities attired in heated tea cozies seemed a bit cumbersome, plus it’d probably scare the dog.
Unwilling to call it quits, I continued my search in San Jose where I found something called a “Heated Mattress Pad,” that – while better than sleeping on permafrost – just isn’t the same as my warm and fuzzy electric blanket.
So the way I see it, merchants are out of sync with the real world by a whole season. Consequently, here is a BIG HINT to anybody feeling the urge for an entrepreneurial new venture. I suggest that sometime – oh, say around Christmas – you snap up every available electric blanket in the county and go rent a store front downtown.
Come February, you’ll accrue a small fortune.
