Village Squire, 1975-12, Page 49Mr. Eaton -
Thank you so much
for your catalogue
BY KEITH ROULSTON
When you're in business, you become very
conscious of spending money in your own
community as much as possible, whether that
community be your own town, city or village,
or, your own region. On top of that, there are
so many interesting local shops that
Christmas shopping can be a lot of fun. Still
the Christmas catalogue is an important part
of Christmas around our place.
It's part of Canadian folk lore that the
Eaton's catalogue over the years provided
everything from consumer information to day
dream building to sex education to toilet
paper to the relatively isolated people of
Canada in the old days. Today it isn't quite so
important in any of these fields but millions
are still mailed out each year (when there is a
mail service at least).
Perhaps it's fond memories that still draw
me to the Christmas catalogue. I remember
cuddling by the warm wood stove in the
kitchen back on the farm with my brother
looking time and again through page after
page of coloured pictures of the most fabulous
toys we'd ever seen. Those were the days
before television began its mind -numbing
flaunting of Big Jim and Barbie and C.I. Joe
starting about January 1 for the next
Christmas. The catalogue was THE authority
on toys in those days, like a giant department
store window filled with unimagined delights.
By the week before Christmas there was no
way mother could order anything from the
catalogue anyway, even if we could order
anything from the catalogue anyway, even if
we could persuade her, because half the
pages would have fallen out of the book and
the other half were so dog-eared that they
were practically unreadable.
Our catalogue is starting to look a little like
that these days as our kids decide on the 101
things they "absolutely must have please
Daddy". Somehow, though, the catalogue
seems something of a disappointment to me
these days. Perhaps it's because the pages
that seemed the only ones that mattered,
those two dozen pages of toys, no longer hold
much interest to me. Perhaps it's because I
know that no benificent Santa is going to
leave all those goodies under the tree for me.
If they did get under the tree, I have this
sinking feeling I'm still going to be paying for
them long after we've pried the last pine
needle out of the living room rug.
Still I find when the Christmas catalogue
arrives (about Thanksgiving Day if I
remember rightly) I'II sit down and look
through it and as Christmas draws closer I'll
be looking through it again and again. I
haven't ordered anything through the
catalogue for several years but I find it an
ie, VILLAGE SQUIRE/DECEMBER 1975.
excellent place to get an idea of what I might
buy. Browsing can be a lot of fun but
somehow by the time I get around to it (about
Christmas Eve) the fun has gone out of it. I
end up rushing in desperation from one store
to another looking for that perfect gift which I
don't really know what it is I'm looking for. I
end up with helpful salesgirls trying to sell
me dresses for my wife when I don't know the
size; salesmen trying to convince me that a
colour television is absolutely essential when
1 have neither the money to buy it (but it's
only $25 a month sir) or the time to watch it if
I did.
The catalogue often provides a- handy
reference book as to what I can expect to pay
for a given article. I realize that I. won't get
the article as cheaply when I go to a local
store because they have higher overhead and
don't get the volume discounts, but I then
know that if something is twice as expensive
as the catalogue had it, I'm being taken to the
cleaners. That's why I've tended to ignore
over the years those establishments who treat
the prices of their merchandise as if they were
atomic secrets. You know the ones who
always leave their prices out of their ads and
even don't have the prices on the nice goodies
in the shop window. I have learned by hitter
experience over the years that I am a soft
touch to the slick salesmen. I've got too many
clotl.. sat home in my closet that 1 never wear
and ton many gadgets in the workshop that
I've found aren't quite as indpspensible as the
salespei son said so now I've come to realise
the best defence is to stay out of the store
unless I know the kind of rec ephon I'in going
to get and the approximate c ost of the item I
want to buy. I mean it I'd been in the Garden
of Eden, Eve would likely have sold nie the
whole apple tree, I'm that big a sucker.
Anyway, Mr. Simpson and Mr. Faton have
done mea good turn over the years. Thanks a
lot for making my Christmas. it not more
merry, at least little less in the red.
Have yourself
an
old-fashioned
Christmas...
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