Worth

A rosy glow caused me to glance out my window on Wednesday night.

That temperamental day had some final comments to deliver.

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That day we’d gone shopping, or I should say Grant did. I only ever go along for the ride. I could count on one hand the occasions I have been in a store in the past 12 months. My excuse – do I need an excuse?

Until COVID, I used to participate, pushing the cart around and occasionally picking an item off a shelf, but when the pandemic struck, I began waiting in the car. Since then I have found being in the store a little overwhelming because of my eyesight. Luckily, Grant does not mind.

Shopping seems a trivial thing to write about when such serious events are unfolding by the hour, yet there is naught I can do about any of that and to dwell upon it too long would be pointlessly distressing.

In my time, I’ve done my share of raging and it has accomplished nothing.

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Shopping was never my favourite activity, but when I was more able-bodied there were times when I quite enjoyed it.

Working shifts at the airport made it possible for me to go shopping during hours when the stores were not busy. Before internet shopping destroyed malls, it was convenient to pop down to the nearest one where a selection of shops offered a variety of items to consider.

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When you deal with crowds of people as an occupation, you tend to avoid them when you can. Still, quiet shopping malls were fine.

Malls still exist, of course, but not anywhere convenient to us, which is fine since neither of us has any desire to visit one anymore.

The sort of shopping I used to enjoy was when on holiday.

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I didn’t necessarily need to buy anything, but I loved to see what was on offer.

Wandering around markets or local streets is such a great way to get a feel for a place.

My only problem in those days was that in so many countries, you were expected to bargain for a good price and I disliked doing so. I made half-hearted attempts and if I really wanted whatever the item was, I paid far more than it was “worth”.

My companions thought I was hopeless, but what exactly is worth?

An object’s worth is whatever price someone is willing to pay for it.

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One travelling companion haggled mercilessly. In Burma, we were buying lacquer ware which was quite exquisite and I thought a good bargain, but my friend kept insisting on a lower price until the merchant, in perfect English, said:

“You have so much in your country. We have nothing.”

After that I shopped alone.

The truth of the matter is I don’t much like dealing with money.

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Never-the-less, I was once persuaded by my friend Tim to get involved in fund-raising, but that was different because the money was for a cause and nothing to do with me.

Previously, when I wanted to get rid of a few things, I’d brought them to the office to sell, which gave me the idea for a “bring and buy sale”. Everyone has all sorts of stuff they either don’t want or can’t use anymore, things that need a good home. This was a great way to exchange it all and raise money, In this case it was for an orphanage in Bangladesh.

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It was a great success and later on Tim and I visited the orphanage, spending a few days in Pakistan and India en-route, where we bought up all sorts of nice things to sell on our return, raising more money.

That sort of shopping and selling was fun.

The only question was in our different approach. Tim felt we should ask high prices. After all it was for charity. My opinion was that we should ask low prices, as the idea was to sell as much as possible.

And who can say which was right?

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