American differences are sadly disappearing

It was about 40 years ago that I first started seeing some of what I wrote about in the following piece.

I think I was in a shopping mall in Missoula, Mont., when I realized that if I hadn’t known where I was, I could have been in any of many different malls in many different states. They all had Waldenbooks or B Dalton, they all had Spencer Gifts and a dozen other stores. Despite where I was or what the local cuisine was, they all had basically the same food courts.

So in 2009, I wrote about how shopping malls were homogenizing America, from Missoula to Miami, from Salen, Mass., to San Diego.

But 17 years later, things have gotten even weirder.

The malls are dying.

Part of it is the international behemoth known as Walmart. Why go to a mall when you can get whatever you want at cheaper prices from the big boy? I live in the exurbs about an hour south of Atlanta and there are four massive Walmart Supercenters within 12 miles of my front door.

But even more damaging to malls is the worldwide godzilla known as Amazon.com. I can order from Amazon without leaving my house and have almost anything delivered in a day or two. Pretty much all I actually go shopping for are groceries and prescriptions.

I know plenty of people — most of them younger — who love the convenience of this, and at my age, not having to drive as miuch is a blessing. But still, the less we leave our homes, the more isolated we become.

At any rate, here’s what I said about it in 2009.

*****

“This used to be a hell of a good country.”
— Jack Nicholson in “Easy Rider,” 1969

I was reading an article about restaurant chains that are in danger of going out of business, and one of the ones they mentioned was “Krispy Kreme.”

The southern donut chain expanded too far and too fast and is carrying a large amount of debt. Servicing that debt cuts way into the company’s income.

For some reason, that made me think of Coors beer. Anyone who came of age in the East in the ’60s and ’70s probably remembers that Coors was only sold west of the Mississippi River. Folks who traveled out West would invariably bring back a six-pack of Coors — “Colorado Kool-Aid” — and we would marvel over its good taste.

I hesitate to say those were the days, but there was something very interesting about this country in the days before everything from coast to coast and border to border became homogenized.

If you grew up in California, you raved about In ‘n’ Out burgers, while folks in New England loved Friendly’s ice cream. I remember the first time I came out West in 1978, I was surprised to see that you couldn’t get Stroh’s beer.

One thing changed all that — shopping malls. About 25 years ago, I started using a term that I had never heard before. Ten years ago — or so — George Will started using it.

“The mallification of America.”

I believe that if you were to be blindfolded and dropped into most shopping malls in this country, and you weren’t allowed to ask anyone where you were, you wouldn’t be able to figure it out from the stores, from the way people dress or even the way people talk any more.

Regional accents certainly aren’t what they once were. Most people are influenced by what they hear on television, and everyone from network anchors to characters on situation comedies seems to talk with that flat Midwestern twang now.

Local bookstores have become endangered by Barnes & Noble and Borders, and local sporting goods stores are being eliminated by the big chains as well. As for the old downtown areas, I’d be willing to be that if your town has a Wal-Mart, there’s no thriving downtown shopping district.

I suppose this is a really minor thing to rant about, and it isn’t as if I find myself brooding on the subject. But it was wonderful to be a kid growing up in Dayton, Ohio, and to travel to New York and see all sorts of stores I couldn’t see at home.

Or to move from Ohio to Northern Virginia when I was 13 and find a lot of different chain restaurants than I knew back in the Midwest.

For about a decade, from 1981 to 1990, I moved a lot for my career. I lived in seven different states, and I saw a lot of different things. When I left Virginia and moved to Gastonia, N.C., I discovered the wonderful barbecue joints and the terrific fish camp restaurants, both there and in my next move to Anderson, S.C.

When I went to St. Louis in 1984, I found the wonderful Italian cuisine in the part of the city known as The Hill. A move to Greeley, Colo., in 1986 taught me about Rocky Mountain oysters, among other things, and Reno in 1988 showed me all the wide and varied casino buffets as well as authentic Mexican food.

L.A. in 1990 had pretty much everything, but there was one thing I found every time I moved. There was always a McDonald’s, always a Burger King, always a TGIFridays or a Sizzler. Go to the mall wherever you are and 90 percent of the stores would be national chains.

I understand it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Successful businesses try to expand their territory as much as possibly, and if they drive out small local businesses in the process, well, c’est la vie

.It certainly makes it easier for people who are traveling. If you’re old enough, you might remember the old adage, “never eat at a place called Mom’s, unless your only other choice is a place called Eat.”

You never know what you’re going to get.

But if you go into a Burger King, that Whopper with cheese is going to taste the same in Oregon as it does in Mississippi or New Jersey.

Well, maybe not New Jersey.

I just think it’s a shame that taking the uncertainty out of life also takes away some of the adventure.