Friday, February 22, 2019

Reimagining Walmart

I can count on one finger the number of times I’ve been in a Walmart. The year was 2003. I wanted to pick some things up for a marketing promotion – those things included boxes of mac ‘n cheese, and bottles of aspirins (don’t ask) – I figured out could get them cheap and in the (modest) bulk I required.

And I did. But I found the store sterile, the experience depressing.

So I was in no hurry to rush back.

Since my visit, I have paid plenty of attention to Walmart, watching the company make a lot more stuff available for a lot less money to a lot more people. Watching them press on the throat of manufacturers, resulting in lower prices and lower quality. Watching Main Street local one-off stores go out of business because they just couldn’t compete with big box Walmart. And, on very rare occasion (not of late), taking a guilty-pleasure peek at People of Walmart, which catalogues weird Walmart sightings. (In general, the cite seems to primarily feature exhibitionists, eccentrics, the totally un-self-aware, and the mentally ill.)

I do know plenty of people who shop at Walmart once in a while, and while they’re not diehards, they do find things they want and need. But for me there isn’t one nearby. I don't have a car. At my age, I don’t need a lot of stuff. And if I want stuff, there’s a Target a couple of miles walk away. There’s Amazon. And there’s the charming little Main Street equivalent just around the corner, where I can get stuff at my charming little hardware store (really more of a general store),  my charming little drugstore, and multiple charming little gift stores. Not to mention the charming little nut and chocolate store, the charming little bakery, and the charming little antique store that specializes in midcentury costume jewelry. There’s also a theoretically charming little grocery store, but appearances can be deceiving. I shop there when I’m desperate, maybe once or twice a year.

So I’m one of those fortunate and privileged folks who still has access to the old timey Main Street experience, which I support, while also taking advantage of the convenience of ordering from Amazon when there’s some little item I can’t find on my charming little Main Street.

Plus I’m walking distance to plenty of other stores, healthcare, entertainment, greenspace, and anything else my little heart may desire.

Interestingly, Walmart is now envisioning a future that kinda sorta resembles my neighborhood.

Walmart Reimagined doesn’t imagine that Walmarts of the future will all be sterile, unimaginative, depressing standalone big boxes. Nope. They’re reimaging, in a few locations anyway, a Walmart that pretty much resembles my neighborhood.

Community connectivity for folks who want to bike and walk to wherever they’re going. Healthy lifestyle destinations. Dining options. Movie theaters. Bowling. Golf. Arcades. Gas stations. Pet care. Parks. Food trucks. Non-Walmart retail options.

Other than golf, this is where and how I live.

Sure, the bowling and arcades are out near Fenway Park, as are the closest gas stations. (Same neighborhood as the Target: about a two mile walk, or a few stops on the Green Line.) But, hey, I can one-up any reimagined Walmart by being able to walk to a major league ball park, plus the home of NBA and NHL teams.

While Walmart is being reimagined, there’s another interesting thing happening.

For years, Walmart was seen as:

…the archvillain of capitalism: the ruthless killer of main streets and mom-and-pops, outrageously profitable and, by all appearances, unstoppable. Now, the 57-year-old retailer has a new role in American society: the anti-Amazon. (Source: Business Insider)

Now it’s Amazon that’s killing Main Street in particular. And killing physical shopping venues in general. Walmart, at least, is some place we can go to. Someplace where we can see what we’re buying, and maybe even spot some of those People of Walmart.

And Walmart, it seems, is embracing its new brand as the defender of wholesome, small town business.

Walmart CEO Doug McMillon – and, yes, I had to look twice to make sure that wasn’t McMillion - seems to think they can carry it off.

At a recent conference, McMillon said:

"There's a strong and heavy dose of humanity in it. ... A differentiating characteristic of our company will be that we still care about people, and they know it."

I don’t know about that. On my one and only visit, I didn’t get the feeling that Walmart cared about me. Maybe I need to give them another chance.

There are a couple of unreimagined Walmarts within 10 miles. I suppose I could Uber out to one of them and look around. Nothing I can think of that I need. I can make my own mac ‘n cheese. Or tap the box of Bunny pasta I have stashed away for an emergency. I rarely take aspirin. But there must be something that Walmart sells that I could use. And, hey, I can always use a heavy does of humanity.

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