The other day I went to the grocery store, fully prepared to get some vacuum cleaner bags for my uprights at home and work.
Much to my surprise, I was told that vacuum cleaner bags are no longer sold. Yes. I was flummoxed. It's bad enough that clothes lines are for the most part, long gone; it's awful when underwear that fits or lipsticks that flatter, are discontinued without a "by your leave, or a kiss my rear." The extinction of "dumb phones" and PCs is expensive and dreadful, so OK. But vacuum cleaner bags?
I went down every possible aisle three times. To no avail. Not a receptacle to behold. Finally, in complete disarray, I located the head clerk. With a rueful smile she shook her head, plainly disturbed by the situation. "No more vacuum cleaner bags. People don't buy them any more, so we stopped selling them."
"You don't sell vacuum cleaner bags any more?!" I was almost at a shriek. It may seem like a simple thing to you but, to me it was a rite of passage. Did I pass the age of civilization when people vacuum their rugs? It appeared that vacuum cleaners had gone the way of rectal thermometers.
The clerk explained that people now use "bagless" vacuums; it wasn't the store's fault at all she went on, but rather that times had changed. I couldn't stand it. I really couldn't stand it. I stuttered, stammered; with arms akimbo, I huffed and puffed. "I know just how you feel," she nodded. "Why, when I heard about the store discontinuing vacuum cleaner bags, I thought to myself, that's just Un-American. Un-American!" Visions of Norman Rockwell paintings, Hoover or Kirby magazine advertisements, and my mother, came to mind...
But there you are. Upon hearing the terrible news, I immediately drove to the small vacuum cleaner store down the street. The tattooed balding ex-Marine, none too pleased to hear what I had to say roared, "Who the hell do they think they are, saying that???!! I've been in business for 30 years, plan to be here for 20 more. All I sell is used and re-furbished vacuum cleaners. With Bags. Here! See these? Thousands of 'em. THOUSANDS of 'em!" His open arms spread behind him as if in song, across long layered shelves that spanned his shop.
I took the bags he sold me and left. It was nothing, really. Still, there was something about it: Vacuum cleaner bags. Something so simple, so necessary, seemingly around forever. All at once rendered useless, outmoded, and unprofitable. Just like that: Gone.