Good, Better, Best

My days of wishing for things began young. Five or six years young. Sears Catalogue. Good. Better. Best.

Remember those times? The washing machine. You had choices. The good machine. It did the job, maybe was a bit plain; but it did the job. Came in white only. The better machine offered two cycles, easily selected by turning a dial. Came in white, only. Maybe a black accent or two. But the best machine, uh pardon me, The Best Machine, (had to add the capitals!). Now this machine had three cycles to choose from, came in off white/crème color, white, and maybe a light gray. It was a dandy. All the bells and whistles. It would make you proud to own this machine. Clearly superior to the others. And for only an additional $42. Imagine how you’d feel owning this machine. In your very own home.

Same went for bikes; JC Higgins, as I recall. The best always had white wall tires. And chrome, lots of chrome. Same bike as the good and better models, but more paint colors, red stripes, maybe a tassel or two hanging from the handlebars. Those big balloon tires. Would make any road smooth and comfortable! Wow! The guys in the neighborhood would think swell of that bike. Wonder if Dad would let me have it?

And the wrenches, radios, furniture, and so many other products. All stuff of course. But always in the Good – Better – Best selection! This is how it was done. This was comparison shopping at the turn of a page. In the comfort of your own home. A life style available for a price, on an easy payment plan if you prefer, but easily ordered and shipped to you. Just select the item and the level of quality. Good, better, best. What could be better than that?

This ethos of course, extended to a lot of things apart from Sears, Roebuck & Company. Houses: good with two bedrooms, one bath and a one car garage. Better, a larger kitchen AND a separate dining room; plus a spacious patio, larger living room; still two bedrooms. But for Best, three bedrooms, two car garage. Zowie. Now we’re cooking. The best house. Now to select the neighborhood.

Or the car. Good car and serviceable. Better one with more features and a little larger. But the best, wow! It had four doors, white wall tires, a radio that actually worked, and a big roomy trunk. Bigger engine, too. Three colors to choose from, four if you counted black. But very few had white; too hard to keep clean!

And school: college or university? Or vocational school? Surely you are planning to get more education after high school? And when you select what you want to do, then you have to pick a college or university. Which is good? Which better. But really, which ones were considered the very best?

Extend this thinking to a host of other things. Clothing, Jewelry. Hair styles. We were being subtly programmed to lead with our first best step. Polite and flashy smile! A friendly howdy! And the best would be yours.

In those days not everyone had access to choice. No good better best for them. They would have to settle for what they could get,…if anything. Color of skin was a determining factor. So was gender. Guys got the good stuff; gals got the good only when the guys wanted to pay for it! Young got the nod, too, not the middle aged. Lower classes need not apply. Educated viewed open doors; uneducated stared at blank walls.

But then the war, the one to end all wars (the second one!) ended and the country was rebuilding. And we needed everyone. Veterans. Young. Students. Young adults. Middle Aged and elderly. To build new houses. New stores. New factories. New schools, colleges and universities. We were marrying a lot; having babies,…a lot! New housing projects sprang up all around the nation. New schools. New places to shop. Towns bursting at the seams. And area shopping centers became an image that just grew and grew. And the people who came to be, and came to shop, still had to select what they wanted: the good; the better; or the best. Of course you wanted the best. But you could only afford the good. Or maybe even a used model?

Struggle to get an education. Struggle to get a job that paid better and led to broader futures. More diversity of choice. More diversity of life partners. Automobiles and houses. And neighborhoods. Choices. And still more choices.

Somewhere we fell off the track. Diversity of choice was OK. Diversity of people was not. Or diversity of thought. Conformity was in. In a very big way. You know that happened. Choice was for the Beat Generation. For the individualists. The non-conformists. The oddballs. As long as you weren’t one of them, well then; you would be OK. You could, of course, continue to choose the good, better or best. Sears or Wards. That didn’t matter. Just so you chose the good, the better or the best. Over and over again.

Did this really get us to where we want to be? I hope you doubt it as much as I do.

God I hope so.

June 11, 2012