“Dressed Up”, Olyphant, Penn. 2019. ©Niko J. Kallianiotis
What’s new in life? I asked my father this question a while back during a coffee visit and his response caught me off guard. He told me he repaired his vacuum cleaner. Think about it, when was the last time you repaired a vacuum cleaner, or for that matter, a television when the screen went permanently black? The first thing that came to mind was that he probably took it to one of our handy family friends to fix it, but that was not the case. “I took it to an old man who sells and repairs vacuum cleaners and who has been doing that for thirty-plus years”. I said how much did it cost? Ten dollars, he said. I found the idea of my father trying to find someone to fix his vacuum and the fact that there is a family business that provides these services fascinating. There are many local services and family-owned businesses providing goods and services, still standing and fighting against corporate giants, stoically fighting to provide for their family, to offer employment to the community, and to share their histories. But now, in addition to the corporate superstores which continue to eviscerate small-town American businesses, now face another enemy, a more lethal virus, a transmittable disease which unfortunately has taken thousands of innocent lives. During this forced seclusion, we are left with a lot to think and consider as its effect is global, not only American.
It’s not only about the goods and services these small businesses provide to the local society and economy. Their importance to the socioeconomic stage on a local scale is non-negotiable, but on a global scale it is the vein and connecting bridge to culture, values and its profile is ecumenical. During this isolation we are currently experiencing, using “social” media to connect with loved ones, who may just be five-minutes away, mirrors the same social isolation when buying a vacuum cleaner from Amazon. It has become an action without thought, not forced, and it’s often done because of laziness to do basic research of nearby services offered, perhaps take a drive on your own main street businesses. Online shopping will continue, but not because of the convenience of scrolling on your smartphone which results in an abundance of goods arriving at your doorstep; the reason why is that your neighborhood store is simply no longer there.
“Appliance”, Wilkes-Barre, Penn., 2019. ©Niko J. Kallianiotis
This is not the time to discuss who will benefit from this monumental crisis our society is currently going through, but one thing is for certain, someone will. Preserving human life above all is of imperative importance as is the business of the old man that fixed my father’s vacuum. Think of the local hardware store, the shoe repair, and furniture store, the one-hundred-year-old pharmacy in Plymouth, Pennsylvania and the appliance store in Kozani, Greece. These businesses, before our current quarantine, were environments where any personal isolation and alienation you may have experienced faded the moment you entered through their door and directly interacted with an employee about products or the business’s local history. Such moments are unfortunately rare because many storefronts on main streets have become commercial cemeteries in the name of convenience, cheaper goods, and labor.
If governments have the ability to bail out corporate vampires, they could easily bail out mom and pop stores globally. I want to hear the squeaking door of that old hardware store open again, even if the clerk thinks you look sketchy when you enter, and that’s fine because it’s who we are and what we do as part of the social experience. Without these entities, our world will become a clinical looking commercial in a virtual corporate mall.
"“Candies”, Trafford, Penn, 2018. ©Niko J. Kallianiotis