Support Lemonade Stands

I do not begrudge the advent of the super store or the MacDonaldizing of the American landscape. Certainly there are greater tragedies than a Target in every town, a Texaco on every corner. Truth be told, my wife and I are notorious Burger King junkies, and christen most every trip with a “Judy Whop” (code for a Whopper Junior) and “Chickie Whop” (more code, in this case for my beloved Chicken Whopper). Yes, marriage does strange things to your vocabulary, but I digress.

No, this is not a rant against commercialization, rampant over-franchising, or the disappearance of Ma and Pa stores across every nook of our great land. Face it, if people didn’t prefer the coffee at Starbucks or enjoy the prospects of buying a bathrobe, canoe paddles, and a 50-pound sack of potatoes at one sell-everything store, these kinds of businesses wouldn’t be the norm. Obviously people like the convenience and familiarity of chains and mega stores or they wouldn’t dominate the countryside the way they do. All I want you to do is consider some of the alternatives for your consumer dollar.

Roadside Stands
For instance, why go to Costco or your supermarket of choice when there’s that perfectly wonderful produce stand on the way? Anyone who’s ever locked up the motorhome’s brakes upon spotting a roadside fruit seller knows how good those peaches taste when they were picked mere minutes ago. Do you dare buy apples in a store in the fall when there are orchards where you can pick your own? Don’t tell me you bought your Halloween pumpkin outside the Blockbuster or the family Christmas tree at the Home Depot?

Remember the thrill on the face of your neighborhood Girl Scout when you signed up for a couple of boxes of cookies? Are you going to get that same reaction—or good feelings—throwing down your credit card at Wal-Mart. (Even Sam Walton had to start somewhere). Remember the payoff when those cookies finally came, the chocolate mint jobbers or those little coconut numbers? In fact, all sorts of upstart businesses come to your door if you’re courageous enough to open it up. The Boy Scouts, kids in band, and Little Leaguers have always had a pipeline to the best candy, holiday wreaths, and cheese logs around, so contribute to these good causes and take advantage of some quality products.

Let the high school kids wash the RV so they can earn money for that trip to the cheerleading championships. Pay the neighbor kid to rake the leaves instead of hiring that landscaping service. Come on, you’re teaching him the value of work, and besides, he’s got that new video game to buy. I get my firewood a cord at a time from a guy who comes to my town twice a year hauling wood in a flatbed. Who could resist true Missouri hickory? And while you’re at it, throw a little business to that 20-site campground that doesn’t pony up for that full-page ad in your campground directory. One of the best places we ever stayed is word-of-mouth only, with 50 campsites right off Lake Michigan.

Required Stops
My wife made it perfectly clear to me from the beginning that she must stop at all lemonade stands, regardless of price, season, and degree of thirst. This is non-negotiable. There she goes, running out of the car, purse in hand, while the kids behind the cardboard table try to hold in their excitement at the thought of a possible sale. They are absolutely losing it, but then their backs stiffen and they get real serious, trying not to blow the deal. But not to worry, Anne’s going to propel this grassroots business to the S&P 500. Cup after cup she drinks, throwing the quarters around like she owns the place. Don’t tell me you’re not going to dig 50 cents out of your pocket for the kids at the lemonade stand?

But wait, it gets better. This is the same woman who bought four bucks worth of painted rocks from the kids next-door. She scored a truckload worth of pumpkins and a front-seat’s worth of apple cider doughnuts from a farm one afternoon. And when she came across a young boy selling his toys at the end of the block, next thing I knew we were the jubilant new owners of a previously owned rubber snake. Although it was $1 for the well-used serpent, the experience, as that commercial likes to say, was priceless.

Brent Peterson is a writer on RVing and camping and the author of a newly revised and updated edition of The Complete Idiots’ Guide to RVing.