Another Day in the Country
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
As you read, I'm very far from Kansas. I told the editor that I was going back to California for a week or two to get some new material for my column. My stay in the country has been so prolonged that country life is normal. What does one write about normal? So I come to California, the best place to find abnormal that I know about.
It is Monday morning and I'm "rained in" in the Napa Valley. It's pouring. All the work projects we'd scheduled around my house above the Napa Valley are on hold. We are shut inside as effectively as a blizzard closes down life in Kansas. It's just a little warmer!
On the ride to Wichita to catch our plane, Jessica and I started talking about some news we'd heard. A clerk at a Super Wal-Mart told me that the store was going one step further and installing a 24-hour medical clinic!
I remember what a big deal it was when we could do 24-hour shopping, but who ever heard of 24-hour medical assistance — other than in the emergency room?
Clinics are a wonderful idea. The last time we visited California my sister found herself in the middle of an asthma attack without medication. Luckily we'd seen a clinic in St. Helena, and she headed for their door. It was great — very little waiting, no appointment needed. Quick, easy service, and we were on our way.
"This 24-hour medical assistance in Wally World is a new idea!" I said to myself, "How innovative, forward thinking, meeting the needs of the people. Fantastic! Something new!"
I was really getting carried away and then I said right out loud, "This isn't a new idea! It's an OLD idea."
"Superstores are not something new," I exclaimed to my riding buddies, "They just have a NEW NAME. We used to call them the Mercantile."
A hundred years ago in Ramona, the Strickler Mercantile was born. Strickler's was the Wal-Mart of its day. It had everything you can imagine: Groceries, dry goods, pots and pans, clothing, shoes, you name it! They were the super store of yesterday. And here we thought that Wally had discovered a new concept. He just resurrected an OLD one.
And the 24-hour clinic? In Ramona the doctor's office wasn't in the Mercantile, but it was right next door. And Doc Saylor made house calls; they all did. They knew that when you were sick and desperately in need of medical attention, the last thing you needed was to be dragging around the country hunting for Wal-Mart. You needed to stay put, make a call, and before you knew it the doctor was at your side.
It certainly is another day in the country, and it seems we are making progress. Hmmmm, I wonder if Wal-Mart will ever make house calls?
"You should write about that," said Tool-Time Tim as he paced the floor waiting for the rain to let up.
"I'd already told the Marion County Record that I was on vacation and not to expect anything from me for a while," I countered.
"Write it anyhow," he said. So I did, and I can't resist sending it your direction.
Surely, I'm not missing Kansas already.
