As I peeled off one of the last sheets of paper towels from the roll hanging above the sink, it dawned on me that this simple and common product is a great barometer of one's financial status. If you have a back-up roll, ready to go, tucked away under the sink, you're in good standing. If not, you may be on shaky ground.
Paper towels epitomize the big change in grocery costs that has occurred over the past few years. Time was, paper towels could be had for literally pennies. Now they cost, in comparison, a king's ransom.
In 1990 the average roll of paper towels cost just 69 cents.
Today, the average roll costs $3.
If you have "means" (and the definition of where that boundary between having means and not having means is very subjective indeed) the cost of paper towels isn't even worth a single second's thought. It's still cheap...to you. But for those "on the edge", living paycheck-to-paycheck, it's a subject of much fret and frenzy.
If you're of my generation (late baby boomers) then you grew up surrounded by paper towels. The germ-ridden kitchen dishcloth was in its waning years as we were growing up. More and more, Mom would grab a paper towel to sop up our spills and wipe our mouths. It was sanitary, plentiful and cheap. Even decorative. But most of all, it was heavily advertised.
Print ads were found in all the "ladies" magazines. Coupons were always at hand in every Sunday paper. And you couldn't watch TV without at least one commercial featuring Rhoda's mom touting "the quicker picker-upper" or a side-by-side comparison of the durability of the sponsor's brand and the flimsiness of the competitor's.
As such, it was ingrained in us that the concept of having multiple cylinders of ultra-porous, readily-disposable paper products stored in our pantries was as much a part of the American Dream as all the other status symbols we regularly uphold. To not have paper towels would be...well...un-American.
There have been times recently that I haven't been able to do my part and have let my plastic dispenser hang empty. Or, sadder yet, with just the naked brown cardboard tube, exposed for all to see my poverty. And perhaps, in some way...treason.
But I'm in much better standing now. My bank accounts are slowly filling up and thanks to God, Country and the cleaning supply aisle at Wal-Mart, I 'm now able to do my duty in keeping a healthy stock.
I'm proudly able to swing open my front door and proclaim to all that I have Bounty! Viva America! My finances are Brawny once again! My home can finally Sparkle! Great Scott, it's good to be free!
Screw that irritating douchebag and his anti-American Shamwow...
Paper towels epitomize the big change in grocery costs that has occurred over the past few years. Time was, paper towels could be had for literally pennies. Now they cost, in comparison, a king's ransom.
In 1990 the average roll of paper towels cost just 69 cents.
Today, the average roll costs $3.
If you have "means" (and the definition of where that boundary between having means and not having means is very subjective indeed) the cost of paper towels isn't even worth a single second's thought. It's still cheap...to you. But for those "on the edge", living paycheck-to-paycheck, it's a subject of much fret and frenzy.
If you're of my generation (late baby boomers) then you grew up surrounded by paper towels. The germ-ridden kitchen dishcloth was in its waning years as we were growing up. More and more, Mom would grab a paper towel to sop up our spills and wipe our mouths. It was sanitary, plentiful and cheap. Even decorative. But most of all, it was heavily advertised.
Print ads were found in all the "ladies" magazines. Coupons were always at hand in every Sunday paper. And you couldn't watch TV without at least one commercial featuring Rhoda's mom touting "the quicker picker-upper" or a side-by-side comparison of the durability of the sponsor's brand and the flimsiness of the competitor's.
As such, it was ingrained in us that the concept of having multiple cylinders of ultra-porous, readily-disposable paper products stored in our pantries was as much a part of the American Dream as all the other status symbols we regularly uphold. To not have paper towels would be...well...un-American.
There have been times recently that I haven't been able to do my part and have let my plastic dispenser hang empty. Or, sadder yet, with just the naked brown cardboard tube, exposed for all to see my poverty. And perhaps, in some way...treason.
But I'm in much better standing now. My bank accounts are slowly filling up and thanks to God, Country and the cleaning supply aisle at Wal-Mart, I 'm now able to do my duty in keeping a healthy stock.
I'm proudly able to swing open my front door and proclaim to all that I have Bounty! Viva America! My finances are Brawny once again! My home can finally Sparkle! Great Scott, it's good to be free!
Screw that irritating douchebag and his anti-American Shamwow...