Do you remember this song from Sesame Street (I know - you may have to think back a ways here)?
One of these things is not like the other
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell me which things are not like the other
By the time I finish my song?
You can thank me later when you are trying to get to sleep but have the "One of these things is not like the other" song in your mind. You're welcome. Anyway, that song came to my mind as we were trying to "Save Big Money at Menards" (there - I traded the one jingle for the other. Again, you're welcome.) The Menards nearest our cozy abode has recently undergone a major renovation, and this was the first time we had been there since they reopened.
A trip to Menard's is about as exciting to me as - oh - a trip to the scrapbooking store would be for RW. Or from what I gather from Facebook (a genuine treasure-trove of information, I tell you!), a trip to Hobby Lobby for my nephew, Brad. All to say, it's not really on my top ten of places to shop. Or really even the top 1,000.
A few years ago RW did all, may I repeat ALL of his Christmas shopping at Menard's. I'm not sure why that surprised me at the time, I should have known. That was the year that RW's mom died, and then a few days later my brother found himself in ICU in a drug-induced coma for 40+ days, prompting the now-infamous ICU reunion, as it came to be known in my family. This all happened the month before Christmas, and neither of us were in the mood for Christmas, but we both felt so lousy about life that we went a little nuts on the presents. As if the presents could make Hazel come back to us, or heal Tim's MRSA-infected lungs. All 50 or so presents. Yeah, umm, that was just for the two of us. Like I said, we were a little out of our minds at the time.
Anyhow, RW purchased every single one of them at my uh..., favorite store, Menard's. Granted, to call some of them "presents" is a stretch, even by RW standards. If memory serves me, he actually wrapped up house numbers (3 different 'gifts') and gave them to me. We'd been without numbers on our house since we painted. Yes, that is the caliber of gift that one can get their wife at Menard's.
So back to the present. We entered RW's promised land of Menard's, and I immediately scoped out the place looking for something even remotely interesting to look at while RDub pondered the merits of different types of router bits. As I wandered over to the odd assortment of books they have on display, I noticed something unexpected. Menard's was piping classical music over their speaker-system. I vaguely took note of this oddity, and grabbed a kitchen remodeling book to peruse. As I flipped through the pages dreaming of nice kitchens, a large black object floated through my peripheral vision. Looking up, I realized that I have found the source of the classical music.
Right here, in the middle of Menard's and right at the bottom of the escalator, was a grand piano with a man in a tuxedo playing Mozart. At Menard's. He had router bits on one side of him, interior doors and vinyl flooring on display at his back, and was looking at carpet, bug spray and patio furniture.
This is about the time that "One of these things is not like the other" popped into my head. And if the higher-ups at Menard's believe that having a tuxedo-clad man playing classical music will somehow fool me into thinking that I am at Nordstrom's... I have one thing to say to them: You are w.r.o.n.g. They are sadly and severly misinformed. If it looks like a router bit, sounds like a router bit, and revs up like a router bit, got news for ya. It's a router bit. Even if it is surrounded in classical music.
I think their marketing department needs to go back to the drawing board on that one. Just saying.
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