H. Neal Glanville
H. Neal Glanville's column appears in the Craig Daily Press
Pushing your grocery cart through the produce aisle, you stop and pop a grape or two into your mouth. What's it hurt; it's only a stupid grape?
What about that small box of cookies or donuts you picked-up in the bakery and left half eaten in the toy aisle? I know, it's only a grape or a couple of cookies, and after all, it's not like robbing a bank.
The stores know and expect us to take a few things here and there, right?
You know, like the shampoo and stuff they have in motel rooms. El wrongo bongo bucko. That's stealing.
Stores like Wal-Mart have a polite name for your theft; they call it shrinkage. I know you think a big bazillion dollar corporation like Wal-Mart can surely afford the loss of a grape or cookie, but once again, you're wrong.
Each store is responsible for its own merchandise, and whether it's damaged or falls under the guidelines of "shrinkage," the loss belongs to the local store.
How does the Craig Wal-Mart make up this loss, you ask? Well, Mr. Interuptus, let me explain.
Each and every store is allotted X amount of "shrinkage," and after this amount is reached, the employees start paying for your thoughtless entitlements.
Of course, it doesn't come right out of their pocket, but at the end of each quarter, the stores add up their profit, deduct the "shrinkage" and figure up the employee bonuses.
So, as the weak side of my brain figures it, you're not only causing "shrinkage." Not only have you been stealing from the Wal-Mart store and its employees (you know, your friends and neighbors), you're stealing from everybody in town.
OK, here's how it boils down: each dollar not received by a local employee is one dollar less spent in Craig. What you obviously think of as yours, isn't. It belongs to everybody in town. So, quit stealing.
Now for something completely different :
This week's fishing on our stretch of the Yampa River has been slow to non-existent. Elk Head is really starting to pick up for the boaters but totally sucks for the shoreline fisherman.
If you're willing to drive east-bound, Stagecoach is good to fair and Lake Dumont, on top of Rabbit Ears Pass, is giving up some good pan sized trout.
Until next time :
I've written and rewritten the following more times than Samulesons has nails and it shouldn't be that hard to explain.
It's just the definition of friendship. No, it's more than that, it's my personal thoughts about friendship. I've made the same mistakes we all have, assuming a co-worker or casual acquaintance was a friend.
I've even picked people to be my friends just to help me feel better about myself.
For years, I wouldn't allow anyone the opportunity to get to know me and let my smarty mouth protect me from accepting the fact that someone would like me and not want something in return.
Now that I've grown up (somewhat), I have a pretty good idea what friendship really is.
It most surely is not the first six things that pop into your head. It's laughing aloud at half-finished stories. It knows that a shared confidence will go no further; and a simple act of kindness is just that, a simple act of kindness.
Though I have met and known many people, my friends I count on the fingers of one hand.
Two such people are Nick and Rachel Veenstra, two of the kindest, openly honest people I have ever had the distinct honor to call friend. If I never have any more friends, my life shall be much fuller knowing these two, and the simple acts of kindness that have made it so.
Thank you for your time.