Nineteen Eighty-Four

The title really should be written out, not numerals. George called it. I'm listening to the book on CD. I read the thing in high school which was a long time ago.

I go to water aerobics on Monday and Wednesday and the trip is about 20-25 minutes one way and so I have the CD in the car, telling me stories. Today's story is 1984. I was listening to Winston's hope that the Prols do something to save the world from Big Brother.

Winston knows the Prols aren't going to be able to think enough to form a plan beyond the numbers they want to play in the next lottery, hoping for a release from the drudgery of their sorry lives. But he hopes. Hopes against hope.

I just listen to this, the chapter is ending as I pull into the parking lot outside a Target store.

I'm after some dog food since I've had trouble buying darling Loony Bin Dog her bribing food because of all the dog food recalls. Wal-Mart wouldn't sell me the cans of food I selected because they were on recall and just hadn't yet been pulled off the shelves. Great.

I've been dealing with the stupidity of long life, low electricity consumption light bulbs for the past week. Since Earth Day was a recent event, these issues are on people's minds. CFLs contain mercury. Mercury is a toxic heavy metal that causes damage to mammals. It should not go into the regular trash where the mercury will eventually seep into the ground water.

I've checked online and find that the nearest center for the disposal of the bulbs is about 90 miles from my house. Too much gas wasting going on to dispose of a bulb.

My husband is a businessman and he thought that the stores, like Wal-Mart, Target, Home Depot, and Lowe's could be collection sites and they could use their ubiquitous trucks to transport the burnt out bulbs to a safe center for disposal.

So, I was in the right department when a floor worker asked if he could help me. I explained my proposal and a look of abject fear came over him. He called his manager. I waited.

I spoke with the manager who liked the way I explained both the goodwill that the store would generate, the service to the customers that it would provide, and the brilliant marketing gesture the plan would make all while saving the planet. No extra cost – the trucks are already on the roads. Just a public service that would make the store look like a hero.

All I kept thinking was that my first little salesguy was the Prols. He wasn't having any of this thinking outside the box. He wasn't going to be making any suggestions to management. I even hinted that it would look good if he told his boss about this great idea. Not him. No way. He wasn't going to go outside the job description and THINK. Nuh huh. He was a Prol, through and through.

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.