Guy Reams (00:01.346)
Day 75, the shopping mall. I remember the day the first shopping mall opened in my small town in rural Colorado. It was a big deal. Suddenly there was a cluster of name brand stores all connected under one roof where you could get all your shopping done with ease. But it wasn't just about shopping. There was an arcade where parents could drop off their kids. I was frequently there. A movie theater and a handful of restaurants.
Early in the morning seniors would walk laps in the warm and closed environment for exercise. At night the younger crowd gathered in the parking lot turning it into an informal social hub. You could visit Santa, get family portraits taken, and grab dinner, with each person in the family choosing their favorite meal from the food court. The mall was initially built on the outskirts of town, where there was plenty of land, but before long it became the epicenter of the community.
Housing developments sprang up nearby, followed by the new stores like the Home Depot, Target, Babies Are Us, and Bed Bath & Beyond. Not to mention several liquor stores. The mall became the heartbeat of the town, drawing life away from the downtown area. Old bookstores, music shops, banks, and jewelry stores in the heart of town were shuttered. The movie theater where you had your first kiss turned into an abandoned storage facility. Even celebrities were drawn to the mall.
I remember when Britney Spears performed there. She must have been about 12 at the time, singing in the same spot that Santa set up shop each Christmas. Not all visitors were so welcome, though. One morning, the local paper ran a chilling headline. Ted Bundy had visited the mall in search of his next victim. The mall had truly become the new epicenter of our community, for better or for worse. But that was then. Nowadays, things have shifted again, while the mall—where the mall—
While the mall still stands and people still visit, the cultural center of gravity has returned to downtown. Downtown is quaint now, with high real estate prices and bustling scene. The old movie theater is out of style, replaced by cabarets and other chick venues catering to a younger and sometimes older crowds enjoying their libations. Shopping downtown now often means browsing through vintage clothing stores or consignment shops pretending to be antique boutiques.
Guy Reams (02:25.236)
Even the fortune teller remains, a descendant of the original perhaps, wearing the same costume but charging a lot more than five cents for a palm reading. I found myself at the mall recently, actually today, hunting for last minute gift. Amazon's algorithm had failed spectacularly to predict what I needed. So here I was, no next day shipping. To my surprise, the mall was lively. People weren't just shopping.
They were doing all sorts of activities. The place had taken on an amusement park atmosphere. Santa was still there, taking last minute Christmas wishes from eager children. The cynical side of me wanted to scoff. I've always seen the mall as a monument to consumerism, a temple to everything wrong with society. Yet as I weave through the crowd, why am I always walking against the flow anyway? I started to notice something. People were laughing, smiling, and genuinely enjoying themselves.
A group of teenage girls wandered ahead of me, holding hands and giggling over what they should buy for their moms. I imagine their moms have been astonished to know that that was their topic of conversation. I saw a man riding an e-scooter in an elephant costume. His four-year-old daughter perched on his lap. Her face radiated per joy. Even a pair of shoplifters seemed oddly jubilant as they wheeled stolen luggage towards the parking lot.
Little did they know the store manager was already on the phone with security. Their escape would be short-lived, but in that fleeting moment, they were also happy. Eventually I found what I was looking for. A pleasant young woman helped me spend far more than I had intended. But I didn't mind. They didn't charge extra for anything. Gift wrapping and packaging were included. And they even offered me a beverage while I waited. It almost felt quaint.
Like they were just as surprised as I was that someone had walked into a brick and mortar store after all. As I waited, the bell over the door jingled and another customer walked in, looking just as bewildered as I had felt moments before. The attendant turned to me with a smile and said, that is my cue. Your gift wrapping should be done shortly. I drove home, hitting every red light along the way, but I didn't mind. When I finally walked through my front door, relieved to be done with my shopping,
Guy Reams (04:40.492)
I was greeted by stacks of Amazon packages waiting to be opened. The irony wasn't lost on me. I wondered for a moment if the loss of the mall as the cultural center of our community was really such a good thing. Maybe we've lost something important along the way. But then I thought, you know, the convenience far outweighs my need for a cultural center. And then my daughter walked in. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Dad? She asked.
When are you going to take me to do my shopping?