I am the spirit of Sam Walton and I am the founder of Wal-Mart.
Rumor has it that I was a pretty nice guy while I was alive. I don’t know about that, but like all of us I entered that arena called reality and realized that all good things must come to an end. Consequently, I left earth in 1992.
At present I am in heaven, and have access to a computer.
That computer is referred by all of us up here as Earth’s Heavenly Connection. We think of the computer as a fabulous advance in technology, although we must admit, that sometimes we have felt like throwing Earth’s Heavenly Connection off our cloud.
You probably knew I was an avid hunter when I was on earth.
And I used to like to get to my hunting grounds in my old truck, which my wife disparagingly referred to as a “junk heap.”
We have also appropriately nicknamed my truck “Red.”
The reason we chose that name is that 1) an old hooker would probably look like my truck and 2) that hooker would probably have great familiarity with the color red.
Although, we gave serious consideration to changing the name of my truck to STD after the christening, which involved a $10.00 bottle of champagne, a small amount of ribbon and a slightly inebriated right tire.
We decided that the change would not be good, as we felt any association with that name would greatly affect the income of a hooker.
The lady, to whom we refer, might well be color blind so in reality she probably couldn‘t recognize any difference in color. But, she would easily recognize a difference in earnings.
However, yesterday I was surfing the internet and I happened to run across a site called Helium, Nitrogen or one of those rare gases.
This site is dedicated to a bunch of writers who do what they probably do best--write!
One of the subjects that they are writing about is what they would do in a Wal-Mart store.
Now, by the looks of me, you would probably say that I don’t generate very much electricity and that I am totally lacking in charisma.
Well, you're probably right, but tonight I am going change for you and share with you my vicariously generated electricity, which is hopefully charismatic.
By that I mean, I’ll tell you what the founder of Wal-Mart would do, if he were ever given the opportunity to do what he wanted to do, without any restraints, in a store.
First I’d drive ole Red down to the gas station and make sure he had a full tank of gasoline.
As I understand it up here, at the reasonable prices they are charging for gas down there, that shouldn't be more than $400.00.
Then I’d head on over to the local Wal-Mart and hope that it would be one of those new super-centers with much activity.
After playing dodge 'em with a group of pedestrians in the safe walking area I’d take ole Red through the front doors.
This might sound destructive to some of you, but ole Red is a short truck in height and there would be no damage, whatsoever.
Besides that, you must remember that the stockholders own the store, so I do have a vested interest.
Once inside and past the smiling greeter and her shopping carts, which she will gingerly offer me ( she will be oblivious to the fact that I am in a pick-up truck ), I’d then drive ole Red to aisle 13.
Why, aisle 13 you ask, with a smile that isn’t quite as wide as the greeter’s.
Well, for some reason out of all the aisles in the store, aisle 13 has always held a deep fascination for me.
It could be that the reason behind that is 1) when I first started out in this business, I owned 13 Ben Franklin stores and 2) that is generally where sporting goods is located.
I may see a new item in Sporting Goods that would make my hunting or fishing easier.
Oh sure, we hunt and fish up here as well.
In offering these amenities Peter told me the only problem he has encountered so far is maintaining adequate water in the lakes when it rains. ( It rains down there, not up here. )
I remember now, I was fishin' away one day and it started to rain, which in itself is extremely rare.
I didn’t make it to shore fast enough ( it’s never cloudy up here, either, ) and wound up at the bottom of a 75 foot waterless lake.
You’d be surprised at the many things you see at the bottom of a lake.
It’s somewhat reminiscent of a fantasy land.
The drop to the bottom didn’t frighten me so much as the difficulty I had getting to shore. The bottom of this lake was real muddy. On my attempt to get to shore, I slipped several times. When I reached shore I felt and looked like the largest ball of mud in the world.
A bolt of inspiration has hit me, and I must share this story with you, as it relates to both the place I now call home and fishing.
Somewhere in Biblical teachings is the following:
If you give a man a fish, he will return the next day for another fish.
But, if you teach a man to fish, he will learn to sit in a boat and drink beer all day.
Nevertheless, let us return to aisle 13.
I generally take ole Red to the bottom of the aisle where there is not much in the way of activity.
Then I throttle the old truck up to its highest rev. and let her “rip,” taking my foot completely off the brake.
I generally “floor board” the accelerator, and go maximum speed ( which is a grandiose 35MPH ) up aisle 13. Until I get to the sporting good section, where I slow down to peruse the area for bargains and useful items, as well.
I never hit anyone, but I am confident that the individuals that are/were in aisle 13 become very respectable of me and ole Red.
I always try to be as astute in my observations as possible.
Most of the shoppers on aisle 13 are lacking in one item of clothing , although they are well dressed. That item is a sombrero, as most of them appear to be from South of the Border.
Nevertheless, I get out my trusty 12 gauge, and fire several blanks into the air.
I have noticed this act has a tendency to bring “the fear of the Lord” into the shoppers on aisle 13. Either that, or the Lord never directs them again to aisle 13, which becomes their main reluctance to ever visit that aisle again
It sometimes creates so much fear in them that I have noticed some of the shoppers from aisle 13 have proceeded to the check out with noticeable circles on their jeans in their groin area.
Anyway, I go up and down the aisle --ah yelling and ah shooting those blanks in my shotgun--, in hopes that I will moderately scare as many shoppers on that aisle as possible.
I certainly do not have the intent of injecting sufficient fear into the shoppers that it will scare them away from my store permanently.
No-no, I just hope to inject enough fear into them that is necessary to “keep them on their toes,” to recognize the next bargain.
Believe it or not, the fear I place into my shoppers seems to stimulate sales.
Now this could be attributed to several factors, but my personal view is that the shopper has to hurry to dodge ole Red.
In the process of dodging ole Red, they knock items off the self directly into their shopping carts.
Nonetheless, management has said that as long as sales increase, they will allow me to continue my antics on aisle 13.