Choice is a good thing, right?

Boomer Musings

By J. Leslie Riseden

In the 1983 comedy “Mr. Mom”, suddenly- unemployed engineer Michael Keaton switches roles with his stay-athome wife Teri Garr, and finds himself learning how to manage the day-to-day responsibilities of running a household and wrangling children. In one early scene, he causes an unforgivable delay at the deli counter by asking for, simply, “a pound of ham.” I forget the exact dialogue, but the deli-counter clerk began to tick off a litany of possibilities, something like “Smoked ham? Baked ham? Boiled ham? Prosciutto? Low-fat? Low-salt? Nosalt?” Anyway, you get the idea.

I know just how he felt. I get the same sense of wonder and befuddlement shopping for toothpaste. Cereal. Cough syrup. Toilet paper, for crying out loud: About a dozen brands offer multiple choices of one-ply, two ply, soft, strong, extra soft, extra strong, and of course, soft and strong.

Purveyors of television programming offer literally hundreds of channels for our viewing pleasure. And, not only that, but one can record as many as 16 shows at one time (so we have something to watch later, presumably when none of the 400+ channels has anything good on.) When I was a kid, on Saturday mornings, I remember a choice: cartoons or cowboys. That was it, until about noon, when the choice became college football, or some-other-college football. (No wonder we went outside and played.)

Automobiles are another area in which there seem to be almost endless choices. Among components as basic as body style and color, we now have such a variety of options that auto makers have apparently run out of slick names. Now, they just use letters and numbers … the QS120, the F-Series, the 240se. The way I remember cars from my childhood … if somebody had an Impala, it was a twodoor coupe. If he drove a ‘57 Chevy, it was two-tone. If she showed up in an Oldsmobile, it was her mother’s big, white four-door sedan.

So, as a society of conspicuous consumers, have we created this market full of choices? Are we that discerning, or are we just demanding? When we stroll the aisle at Wal-Mart, is there a chance that we won’t buy a toothbrush at all, because we can’t find a turquoise, medium-soft bristle with a flat handle and tapered head? Might we go without shampoo at all because we don’t see the right blend of coconut/avocado/lavender?

For that answer, I had only to recall a recent visit to my nearest convenience store. I needed something important, like paper towels or coffee. There was one brand of paper towel, one brand of coffee. I bought them, of course, because there was no other choice available at the time.

Now, I admit, I do like having a choice of different varieties on a theme. And, come to think of it, there seem to be areas in which there aren’t enough choices. In my particular corner of northeast Texas, for example, if I want to watch “local news,” my only choices are stations that broadcast from Louisiana. Unless I want to drive 50 miles, I have to put gas with 10% ethanol in my lawnmower and generator, which really mucks up the engine. I have but one choice for public water, and one for electricity.

And finally, we are all on the brink of one of the biggest choices Americans face. In November, we face a decision with which some of us struggle; a choice that promises both pros and cons no matter which way we go. We must make a choice about which so many Americans have such a strong opinion, that it has been known to cause permanent rifts in even the closest-knit family: turkey, ham, or goose?