The Hippest Blue Light in the World...

On the list of big-box stores, I generally wouldn't be caught dead shop in, Kmart ranks second only to Walmart. And while I have proudly never spent a dime in a Walmart (I have been to two Walmarts on reconnaissance missions, the second time I felt so dirty I had to run from the store... but that is a different post), I grew up going to Kmart in California, and have many childhood memories of shopping there. I remember the lunch counter with its limited menu of processed crap food, along with the cranky lady behind the counter, the sticky sweet smell of blue and red Icee's. (I was fond of the polar bear on the Icee machine) and the center isle with all the bargains. My fondest memory, however, was the box on wheels, covered in wood-grained Formica with a pole sticking out, atop of which held the famous flashing blue light. Then the PA would crackle:

"Attention Kmart Shoppers: we'd like to direct your attention to our Sporting Goods Department where we are having a Blue Light Special on all rifles and ammunition. For the next five minutes only, you can take an additional 10% off of all rifles and ammunition... Thats right, an additional 10% off of all your hunting needs for the next five minutes only. And remember, always look for the flashing Blue Light for savings at Kmart, and thank you for shopping Kmart today."

Shoppers would rush to the flashing blue light, even if they didn't need or want the item on special, as if just to see the frenzy of other shoppers snapping up the deals. Of course, I was always urging Mom to go over and see the action as well.

When I was nineteen, I somehow (I have no memory of how it happened) ended up working at Kmart on Howe Avenue in Sacramento. For a couple of summer months, in 100 degree plus heat, I would corral carts from the parking lot, stock shelves, and then collect my pay in cash each Friday from the 'cash office'. They kept me pretty busy, but a couple of times when nobody was looking, I rolled the big wood-grained blue light box to a nearby department, pluged it in, and flipped the switch, just to see how many people would gather around (I got caught once, and had a shift canceled as a result). To this day have no idea what possessed me to want to work there. Ahhh... good times, good times indeed...

After leaving California at 21, I lived in urban centers where Kmarts were miles away, and I had no need for them. As I got older, I grew to be a bit of a snob (it's true, I'll admit it) about the discount stores, and Kmart was just a place I had no need for. Instead, I became a Target shopper... It was mainly a style thing. Kmart sold ugly things... things I wouldn't be caught dead with in my home.

So, the other day, I found myself sweating profusely in the sauna that is Manhattan in the summer, wishing I had a washcloth with me to wipe my brow. I neglected to pack any with my boxes I shipped from Chicago, and I didn't want to use all of my hosts washcloths. So, what to do? Well, I still don't know where everything is in Manhattan (and probably never will), but I did remember the Kmart near Astor Place, and being only a few blocks away, I thought what the hell.

Well... I expected it to be a bit ghetto'ish, with plenty of people of lesser means pushing strollers around with five to seven children in tow (did I mention that I can be a bit of a snob?), which I did see, but not as many as I thought. But what I didn't expect to see were the hoards of LES and Village Hipsters walking up and down the aisles. So many that you couldn't swing a baby without hitting a Hipster. I was also pleasantly surprised by how the store was relatively clean, relatively organized, and while it was still Kmart and the merchandise was still mostly cheap and ugly, I actually found an item or two that I could envision in my home (inside of a cabinet of course).

As I left the store with my $2.00 washcloths (exactly what I wanted), I found it interesting how my childhood memories had flooded back, even though I was in a three level store in the middle of Manhattan. Of course the big wood-grained box with a flashing blue light atop is history (now it's just a picture of an animated blue light bulb on in-store signage), the memory will always linger on. I might actually go back again....


Someday.

Do you have Blue Light Special memories?