One Thing Leads To Another, Sort Of
A Geezer’s Notebook, By Jim Foster
Now I know we all have to make a living. Some poor souls struggle by in retail and spend their lives watching tubby persons trying to squeeze into pants and dresses clearly designed for svelte teens all the while grumbling that foreigners must have screwed up the sizing system. Their clientele seem to forget they have put on a few pounds since they went to high school – like about 80 pounds.
Some bozos like me went into the printing trades and the technology passed us by. I watched a machine in the UPS Store where an author can simply think of the plot for a book and while he or she is standing there, the book, including a designer cover, is being printed, collated, stitched and finished copies are pumped out the other end.
When I apprenticed with Johannes Gutenberg in the 50s, we had to melt the lead, form the letters with our burning fingers, and then go outside and cut down a tree to make the paper.
Other students, far too many it seems now, entered the legal professions. Some unscrupulous scoundrels fell even further and sold their souls to the devil and entered politics where they will fritter the day away until the battle of Armageddon and from thence spend eternity ruing their decisions while collecting their indexed pension. (That sounds stupid even by my standards which are pretty loose at the best of times. I’m sorry I shouldn’t pick on lawyers, I know several and I’m sure I liked one of them.)
But, no matter what career decisions a person makes to keep the wolf from the door, no one should ever have to stoop so low as to make commercials for the Haribo candy company. You must have seen the TV ad, a roomful of executives sit around in a boardroom talking baby talk to other morons around the table.
On the other hand, and this is what amazes me, the damned commercial must sell. I had never heard of Haribo before seeing it. Now whenever I walk by a candy counter I get the sudden urge for something sweet, unfortunately for Haribo, not Goldbears, their number one product, but Drambuie, but at least one international company benefits.
Haribo is a German candy manufacturer and has been around since 1922. They now have four plants in Germany and ten more around Europe. Back in 2005, Haribo produced 100 million Goldbears a day. Not bad for a company that started out in the family kitchen. Mary and I have trouble heating up a bowl of soup.
*******
I don’t want to alarm you, cause you to have a stroke, wet your pants, or have a nervous breakdown, but I had a tremendous shock this morning at the liquor store. As a result I was forced to make a decision, a momentous decision as it turned out for so early in the day. Drambuie was selling for $49.75. That is down 25 cents since the last time I bought a bottle. I am sure a couple of months ago when I picked one up it was at least 50 bucks Now you see my dilemma. Do I dare to buy this fine Scottish liqueur at such a rock bottom price?
Before you rush out and buy a case, think about this for a minute. Why would the greediest business in Ontario, next to any grocery chain store, drop the price on one of its better sellers? I can only believe the product has been watered down or each jug opened and 25 cents worth siphoned out and poured into one of those little spark-plug bottles, which in November they will put them on sale as Christmas stocking stuffers for $5.95.
Failing that, and this is the scary part, could this be the first step in a giant going out of business sale at the LCBO. We know business is down, there were only 20 or 30 people lined up at noon hour ready to cash out. Management was huddled in a meeting to consider opening another till. From what I understand they will make that decision sometime later today, or maybe tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I will await Doug Ford’s announcement.*
*I lied a little bit about the liquor store. There were only four of five customers and it wasn’t noon it was 10:30 a.m. and there were two tills open. You have to understand journalism. Lying in a column is called poetic license, story enhancement, and sometimes pure bull droppings. But the price of Drambuie really had dropped 25 cents. I was so surprised I collapsed and had to be given CPR.
(Well, not really; they just threw a pail of cold water on me and added the cost of the bucket and the water to my credit card. I lied about that too.)
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