Why it's Mostly Better to Shop Local (and how to avoid being annoying about it)

Photo via Flickr User Betty Blade

Maybe you're one of those people who looks for every opportunity to go on a long rant about how you never buy stuff from Amazon because they put independent booksellers out of business.  Is that you?  If so, please just shut up, okay?

Photo via www.coloraddict.com

Yes, it's important to shop with local retailers in Park Slope.  Don't get me wrong.  But if you're one of those people who feel the need to prosthelytize about it, well...  you need to know that you've been annoying everyone you've ever spoken to on any given day of your pathetic, miserable, carb-obsessed life.  So shut up about it, and think about where, puh-zactly, those boundaries should be.

Let's start with food.  I'm fully on-board with this whole locavore, slow-food, sustainable, blahdy-blahdy-blah business.  The bottom line for me is, if a restaurant in my neighborhood is only going to serve me produce that's in season and was grown no further than 200 miles from where I'm eating it, my meal is just plain going to taste better.  That's not science, people.  That's common sense. That's the reason that you don't order scallops in Oklahoma City.  Wake up, smell the coffee, and choose Applewood over Applebees.

There's also value in patronizing the mom-and-pop businesses that have developed a smart, sensible business model based on being responsive to local communities.  Sure.  You could go to Rite-Aid, Wal-Greens or Duane Reade. They pride themselves on having networked computer systems that keep your info handy so that you get better service, right?  Yeah.  Well, think about this: there's a Duane Reade near my awfice (spelling intentional) in Manhattan, and a Duane Reade near where I live in Brooklyn, and another Duane Reade near my doctor's office, in a different part of Brooklyn.  In recent months, I've had prescriptions filled at all three Duane Reade locations (it's a recurring something that I don't particularly want to talk about, so don't ask), and each time, they look me up in their "system" and then ask me whether I have any drug allergies.  If I'm in your "system," you should know that penicillin makes my face swell up like I've just put on a fat suit to be in an Eddie Murphy movie.  

On the other hand, if you go to Neergaard, they've got two locations, both in the Slope, and a 1-800 number in case you go out of town.  There is a fairly narrow universe of pharmacists that you'll deal with.  They'll fill your 'scrip.  They might not remember your drug allergies when you call (or maybe they will), but I'll bet they don't have some ridiculous computer system with 50 people in your same zip code who have your exact same name.  Just go to Neergaard.  It's easier and better.  And they've got great creams and lotions and bath salts and shit, too.  Better than you'd find at Rite-Aid (who, by the way, prints comically long receipts for small purchases). It should be spelled "Right Aid," incidentally  (note to self: Rite-Aid promotes illiteracy = another reason to shop local).

GAP Farmer's Market / photo via Flickr user Lornagirl

Okay, back to food.  Whole Foods has gotten a shit-ton of free advertising on FiPS by virtue of forcing us to cover their huge 3rd Avenue Superfund/Superstore adventure.  Whole Foods is a chain.  Not just a chain.  They're a really big chain that just might be responsible for killing sea turtles.  But they sell organic shit, so people in the Slope leave comments on this blog telling us that Whole Foods isn't really run by right-wing assholes who tried to kill heath-care reform, and we should abandon our bias against big chains because not all big chains are bad.  Okay.  So, explain to me (in the comments, if you like), in what universe is it better to shop at Whole Foods than at the local greenmarket?  What's the social, political and economic reason to give your money to the guy in Texas who owns a chain of crunchy grocery stores, instead of paying that money to a farmer from New Jersey who put her tomatoes into a truck and got up at the Tony Orlando of Dawn to bring them to your neighborhood?  'Splain, please.

Oh, yeah, and about that free advertising we've given to Whole Foods?  Have you noticed that there are actually local businesses that pay to advertise on FiPS in the side-bar?  Right over there --> Yeah.  How many multi-national corporations do you see in that sidebar?  Wait. Don't answer that.  I'll help you out, in case you're bad at counting from 0 to nothing.  There are NO BIG COMPANIES OR CHAIN STORES!  Zero. Nada. Zip. Bupkis. So, if you like finding out what's going out in your favorite neighborhood blog (and this shit don't exactly write and post itself, you know?) go to the advertisers for your goods and service providers, whenever possible.

The bottom line, for me at least, is that there are good reasons to shop locally, and then there are stupid reasons. For one thing, you can't change a big company's business model with a boycott.  Big companies always win.  And, as Mitt Romney and the Supreme Court will tell you, those companies are "people" with civil rights and shit.  Do not discriminate against them.  That would be racist against corporations.  So if Target hates gay people, but you need detergent, and the best price on Tide is at Target, you need to be aware that you're not going to force Target out of business by buying your Tide at the bodega on the corner, where it's twice as expensive.  Target's going to survive, and they're going to hate gay people, no matter where you buy your detergent.  So, sleep easy knowing that, if you're near the Atlantic Center and you need detergent, you won't be held personally responsible when the Republicans send the boxcars to take away the gays.  Don't sweat it.  Just do your fucking laundry.

7th Avenue B&N / Photo via Barnes & Noble

Also, let's think about convenience, for a minute.  I read books. I love books.  I love bookstores.  I love independent bookstores.  But I love my Kindle more.  If I'm on a trip for work and I finish my book on the plane, I don't have my stack of un-read books with me.  I need to be able to download a book so that I don't have to talk to that stupid bitch who managed to snag the window seat exit row next to me on my trip home. She is horrible, without fail.  I can download my book and ignore her with impunity, as long as I have my Kindle.  I cannot do that without something to read, if my reading material is at home.  Ergo: I love my Kindle.

So, if you're looking for a compromise, I guess you could go to the Barnes & Noble on 7th Ave., and buy a Nook.  That's not really a compromise, though.  Aside from employing the people who work at that particular B&N, you're really just giving your money to the corporate owners.  The neighborhood connection is tenuous, at best. But if local, independent bookstores are going to die a slow, painful, unfortunate death, it's not going to be because you spent a lot of time and money inconveniencing yourself by avoiding the new business model that's taken hold.  You can't fight a tidal wave.  If it's inevitable, you might as well deal with it.

Gawd.  This is so overwrought and complicated.  How do you shop locally without becoming insufferable about it and inconveniencing yourself at every turn?  It's painful.  In fact, I ate a transdermal lidocane patch in order to get through the process of writing this post (turns out, you're not supposed to eat them, hence the 'transdermal' part.)

Okay. Tell me, FiPSters.  When you weigh the beauty of shopping locally against the convenience of going to a chain or shopping on the web, where do you draw the line?