Why local is where it's at.

I have this thing about having to go to Home Depot. Just having to think about going there is obtuse. Being there is worse. Because when you get there, the parking lot is a freaking mess. It simply does not matter which of my local Home Depot's I decide to attend, each one is equally maniacal.

And then… you have to go inside.

Oh my god. Why did someone decide to build a shopping mall, and then at the last minute tear down all the interior walls holding up the roof and fill the newly-opened expanse with screws, lumber, paper towels, cement floors, people in orange aprons, dust, and candy bars and call it a Home Depot? Or Lowes? Or Super Walmart? Or to where ever the frick people are fricking flocking these days?

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Perhaps growing up in a small town which featured, quite proudly, a one-square-block-perimiter of retail stores from which one could buy daily wares—like screws, or paper towels, or orange aprons—finessed me into a guy who likes to be coddled when he buys something. Don't get me wrong. I don't need my hand held when I'm shopping. I'm that guy who actually likes to forage for what he's looking for. But when I have a specific need that needs filled, I need it filled by an aficionado, not a clerk.

But I don't think my growing up in said small town had everything to do with it. It's many things, including the fact that I run my own small business—more of a business-to-business business, but still. I know when to—and how to—tell the difference between a store owner who appeals to the masses, and one who digs the community. And it's not to be poo-pooed. I—and by "I" I mean my family—go out of my way to support local business owners. It's a big deal, really. Among the questions I ask myself:

Is there somewhere in our neighborhood we can buy the same thing or service?
Whose pockets do the profits line?
Why is there a scantily-clad mannequin in front of your coffee shop?
Are you a locally-owned bar, and what are the other bars you own?
When is your fine-foods market going to open up shop three blocks from my house?

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Supporting the locally-owned little guys help give your community a personality. This is important to the vitality of your neighborhood. Not just important, but mandatory. "What have we, if we have not a community?" I just made that up to sound like something Ben Franklin, or Thomas Jefferson, or someone really stately and smart would say. Because it's true.

Take, for example, the neighborhood liquor store I frequent. I walk in and I am usually greeted, if not by name, by a knowing smile. With a knowing regard for what it is I am hankering. Not unusually by a guy who knows my name. He knows my name because of my guerilla shopping mentality. Because I insist on disregarding the stores whose profits fill the pockets of yonder boys—corporations who probably don't give a shit about you.

Do me a favor. Think, for a second, about where you buy stuff these days. Probably online a lot. Probably at Walmart a lot. Probably at Starbucks a lot. But do you ever think about opportunities about buying stuff like that from proprietors who are also your neighbors? Look, I don't meant to get all ideological on your asses, but think about what you buy, and from whom you buy it, from now on. Why not buy your next steamed mocha half soy venti non-decaf grande latte from your local coffee purveyor? Because it will suck? Highly unlikely. Because it will take longer? It might; it might not. Because you are helping build a more socially verdant community? Yes.

And because it sucks that Home Depot drove so many neighborhood hardware stores out of business because those neighborhood hardware stores employed aficionados. Home Depot employs clerks.