Not-So-Super Markets

Scarcely a day goes by without news of some supermarket chain in crisis and decline. "Supermarkets are past their sell-by date," declared The Guardian last month. "They just don’t know it yet."

Two German companies, Aldi and Lidl, are usually held responsible for this sea change in British shopping habits. By limiting the number of lines they stock (do we really need a choice of 73 types of toothpaste and 156 of jam?) and applying fairer mark-ups, they have exposed the regular supermarket BOGOFs and other 'unbeatable' deals as hogwash.

Then, of course, there's online shopping.  My younger son and his wife rarely visit a supermarket, preferring to do their shopping online, then sit back and wait for it to be delivered.  And there are thousands like them. Consequently, supermarket chains are now lumbered with tens of thousands of outlets that are expensive to maintain, serving a diminishing customer base.  To compound the problem, new stores have frequently been built a stone's throw from their rivals as supermarket chains greedily fight for each other's customers.  

Not Lydney market - ours isn't so smart.  This one is
 Newcastle Farmers' Market, from where I appear to be
emerging with a month's supply of cheese.

But I reckon the reasons for this decline go still deeper.  In our little Gloucestershire town there is no Aldi or Lidl , yet in the last year or so the list of things we buy from Tesco or Morrison has shrunk alarmingly. The days when we bought almost everything at a supermarket are but a distant memory. This month we got our...

• Meat from the local butcher.  No cellophane wrapping here to hide the rubbish meat beneath the better stuff. It's all fresh and wholesome, cut to order and cheaper too.

• Vegetables from the Saturday market trader. O dear... the spuds and carrots still have soil on them (who cares?) but they are sometimes half the cost of cleaned and polished veg from the supermarket across the road.

• Fish from the fish man's van.  Morrison's and Tesco's will tell you that their fish is fresh, but not as fresh as this. You really can taste the difference. And last Saturday we picked up 6 Sea Bass for a tenner.  I've just checked Tesco Direct, and they're selling one 300g fillet for £5.70!

• Cat food from an independent supplier.  This is the latest to be deleted from our supermarket shopping list.  Boxes of Felix are never more expensive than Tesco and usually a pound or two cheaper.  And it's nice to support the locals.

I love shopping at markets, especially outdoor ones.  But whether you join me, or sit at your computer and order from there, it seems that we're both contributing to the ever-deepening anguish of Messrs Tesco, Asda, Morrison and Sainsbury.

Pedantic, or just logical?

© Google Street View

Before moving to Gloucestershire I often drove past a sign that instructed me to Use both lanes for Truro.  "What?" I would ask myself, "Do they want me to drive down the middle of the carriageway or zig-zag from side to side? What the sign really meant, of course, was Use either lane for Truro.   Call me a pedant if you must, but I found the wording more than a little frustrating.  For the sake of one extra letter, why not get it right?

Then there was my dad's hotel.  In order to comply with the Fire Regulations,* the door to the under-stairs cupboard had a sign proclaiming This door must be kept closed.  And with my logical brain, I used to wonder, "Why have a door there at all? Why not just have a wall?"

I lay the blame for this mode of thinking firmly at the feet of my supervisor, when I was a young and impressionable trainee.  One conversation, I recall, went something like this:
"Don, we've run out of Highly Inflammable notices."
"Mmm.  I suppose they all caught fire."
"May I have an order, please?"
"Certainly.  Jump up in the air and stay there!"

The problem is that, once you start thinking in this highly logical manner, it does rather take a hold. Consequently, when on my regular walks in the forest I come to a gate with the notice Please close the gate, I'm left with a problem.  The gate is already closed, so I can't close it... and how can I get through it?

If you find the sign on the right amusing, then it's clear that the rot has set in and I welcome you to The Society of Logical Thinkers.  I warn you, though, that there is no known cure.

Finally, for members new and old of the aforementioned society, I leave you with this one:

The world comprises 10 sorts of people: 

those who understand binary 

and those who do not.

* Actually, of course, they are Fire Prevention Regulations, but I'll let that one pass.