I saw a commercial about a company that sells emergency survival food.
They offer provisions that can be stored for extended periods in preparation for a possible crisis.
Purchasing such items seems like a practical strategy given the precarious times we find ourselves in, and I would consider such a plan if I wasn’t already a Costco member.
Unfortunately, my wife deems my shopping habits wasteful, even if they’re carried out in the name of preparedness.
She suggests, if I was going to buy so-called survival food, it would be more practical to purchase, say, sacks of rice and beans, not potato chips.
But I argue, how are we going to be able to cook rice and beans if there’s a power failure?
That’s why, I maintain, it makes sense to have an ample supply of ready-to-eat provisions such as potato chips and M&M’s.
But even if power wasn’t the issue, who wants to live on rice and beans when we can have turkey and mashed potatoes?
And that’s why, for the past number of years, as Thanksgiving draws near and the supermarkets offer those incredible turkey promotions, I always buy an extra bird or two just for such uncertainties.
I explain how much I was able to save on those turkeys, but my wife argues I blew the savings on the freezer we had to purchase.
She also claims my tendency to buy in bulk is not always the most efficient strategy, pointing to what she calls my inclination toward wanton extravagance.
Like her complaint about the 55-pound sack of dog food I bought at Costco.
Despite her criticism, I explained how it would have actually cost three times as much had I purchased the exact same quantity in the small bags sold at the supermarket.
But regardless of the dispute, my wife has a sad habit of reflexively challenging any position I may take.
“We don’t have a dog,” she argues.
Here again, she chooses to employ another favorite tactic: using diversion to distract from the issue at hand. While I’m advancing a winning financial strategy, she decides to talk about pets. What does owning a dog have to do with how much money I saved?
In any event, until we finally do get a dog, the dog food remains in the freezer along with 12 turkeys and 10 gallons of butter pecan ice cream.
I call it preparedness.
She argues buying dog food ahead of a dog is putting the cart before the horse. Another nugget of hypocrisy from the person who once bought a crib a full nine months before the baby arrived.
The truth is, we’d have a dog today if she wasn’t allergic to them.
I remind her of that conversion with that allergy specialist who told her it’s possible to build up an immunity with sufficient inoculations. “What kind of dog do you have?” the doctor inquired.
“We don’t have a dog,” she replied. “Just dog food.”
Sadly, we still have no dog, but since those Thanksgiving promotions are back, I managed to acquire three additional turkeys.
Contact humor columnist Irv Erdos at IrvErdos@aol.com.
"strategy" - Google News
October 18, 2020 at 08:04PM
https://ift.tt/3dDC01h
Column: Bulk buying a practical prep strategy - The San Diego Union-Tribune
"strategy" - Google News
https://ift.tt/2Ys7QbK
https://ift.tt/2zRd1Yo
Bagikan Berita Ini
0 Response to "Column: Bulk buying a practical prep strategy - The San Diego Union-Tribune"
Post a Comment