Coroner and Ives

Jean Shepherd wrote years ago, in “In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash”, about how we see newsreel footage of tribal customs, folkways and local celebrations and rites from all over the world, and find them alternately quaint, charming, revolting or mystifying.

Shep went on to say how a turnabout might be interesting, to have villagers from some remote “backward” civilization (meaning: no Panera, no cable, limited access to all the great advances of American society) see footage depicting Western courtship rituals. You know the story - nervous young man drapes necktie around neck to Make A Good Impression On The Parents, and we're off to the dance.

I think about Shep whenever I see a story like this come across the wires:

NEW YORK -- Police say a Wal-Mart worker has died after being trampled by a throng of unruly shoppers shortly after the Long Island store opened Friday.

Nassau County police say the 34-year-old worker was taken to a hospital where he was pronounced dead at about 6 a.m., an hour after the store opened. The cause of death was not immediately known.

A police statement says a throng of shoppers "physically broke down the doors, knocking him to the ground." Police also say a 28-year-old pregnant woman was taken to a hospital for observation.

Wal-Mart Stores Inc., in Bentonville, Ark., would not confirm the reports of a stampede during the day-after-Thanksgiving bargain hunting, but said a "medical emergency" caused them to close the store.

Now I mean, really, people. Fact is, I remember when they opened the WalMart near us about a dozen years ago, and I had just gotten to work at 6 AM the day after Thanksgiving that November when the store manager called 911 to report that the mob thronging outside his store was coming close to breaking down windows and doors in an effort to lay their hands on the merchandise that they simply HAD to have that Christmas. I’m guessing they had their hearts set on Hanson CDs, VHS tapes of Rainman and Big Mouth Billy Bass, the singing fish all mounted for display.

Anyway, it was rather harrowing to hear pure undiluted fear in that guy’s voice. He lowered his volume, apparently hoping that the doorbangers would then lower theirs, but the only effect was the creation of an eerie, portentous telephone sound. He said he saw the front windows actually “breathing” in and out as the crowd surged. We wound up suggesting that he simply open the doors a few minutes early, rather than let the crowd break them down.

But look at the news story. Have we really become a nation in which people are so fervid to demonstrate their love for their deity that they will trample store personnel while purchasing gifts to hand out in celebration of the deity’s arrival date?

Turn that around, as Shepherd did, and wonder if we told the story to the inhabitants of the most remote village on earth –a village so remote that their coupons expire before they ever get chance to get to Sears, a village so far away that radio signals announcing Lindbergh’s safe arrival are just getting to them, a place so distant that they don’t have a Home Depot because there was no store to go to for the building supplies to build one – and ask yourself if even those benighted denizens of Faroffia would wonder what the hell we are doing over here.