Gratefully unplugged

There is something wholesome to the smell of a local hardware store. It’s remarkably earthy, a scent so recognizable you could be blindfolded and still conjure up images of grease-covered hands on sturdy metal, or coarse gloves gripping garden trowels. It’s akin to the feeling of household productivity and the small pieces that hold together a fulfilling life.

After taking it all in you walk by the checkout counter that’s located only a few feet from the door. They keep it close so they can check-in on you. The cashier knows your name and probably even why you’re there. “Hey Mr. Busby. Your lawnmower part came in today.” You say their names back because it feels right to be loyal to a place that commits itself to connecting with you so personally, instead of digitally or remotely.

But who needs this old-fashioned interaction, when these days anyone can order anything from their computer desk and their bathrobe. Sites like Amazon.com make shopping a breeze, just three clicks and the taps of some scattered keys. No words. No interactions. No need.

Back at the hardware store, fathers are hunting among the tools to find the fix to their day-to-day problems. One walks up to the parts counter in front of me with his small, blonde son in tow. The boy’s hands are fidgeting, looking for something to do as his dad asks for a part that he had reserved on some other occasion.

“Did you eat a lot of turkey?” the cashier asks the boy. The boy’s face slowly starts to release a smile. “I don’t know if he likes it as much as I do yet,” the dad demurred. Grins are spreading as the older clerk goes in the back to find the reservation.

It seems so insignificant, this small exchange of pleasantries. But there’s something more tangible there than on any website. It’s something the father paid for when he invested the time to visit the store, or when he remembered the clerk’s name. It’s something his son needs now more than ever if he’s going to grow-up being socially healthy.

The clerk hands over the part and wishes them a happy holiday. There seems to be more interest in the boy’s eyes than before as they pass all the categories of nuts and bolts that oft go invisible to a normal kid’s eyes. Hopefully he was reminded of the touch of human interaction and the thrill of talking to someone’s face.

Hopefully he won’t grow up to be like his older brother, too busy texting in the car outside.