It's probably not the wisest move to start a blog with a rant about one's latest experience with corporate America, but honestly, this is one of the most insane occurrences with American
culture that I've had in some time.

Recently I've built myself a pneumatic rifle that shoots golf balls using air pressure stored in a chamber. With the sidelining of my air pump (it was cheap) - I set out to find a replacement. For some reason, I ended up at Kmart - a store that has been damned by the Clark family for sometime, though on special occasions we've ended up there, mainly when we are looking for an item so unbelievably cheap that no other store would carry it. Today I had a small checklist - air pump, nerf balls, and maybe some entertainment for tonight.

I first wandred into the sporting goods aisle and found the mid range Schwinn air pump. The pump features a metal body, rubber hose, and is rated to 160psi. Wonderful.

My next stop was the golf aisle. Nerf balls were rather expensive ( 5.99$ for 5 ) - so, I figured practice golf balls would do the trick. They were a bit cheaper ( 3.99$ for 6 ), but I'll need to find a way to keep them around, because they are not quite cheap enough to use once.

On my way to the checkout, I spotted "The Jungle Book" Platinum Edition. (remember to see sidenote A at the end of this entry.) I've been waiting for The Jungle Book to come out of the ever mysterious Disney Vault for some time - I knew it had came out Tuesday to DVD nationwide, and had planned to purchase one of my all time favorite movies. For the last month I've been singing the beat boxing King Louie's "I wan'na be like you" in pure excitement for this film.

I grab one off the shelf and head to the checkout queue. Here's where the audacity of my trip begins.

First things first. I was unaware that it takes 2 college girls and one middle aged mom to operate a Kmart cashiers post. I was second in line and I waited 10 minutes to even get to the checkout counter.

After I get to the counter, I smile and do the usual chit-chat that you do with tellers at stores. Karen Z. scans the first of my three items - practice golf balls. $3.99. Check. She scans the second item, The Jungle Book - $19.99. Check. She scans the third item - Schwinn Air Diver 1000. Er...wait.

Karen Z. : "Ummmm...this didn't scan."
College girl #2. : "I think it needs his birth date."
Middle-aged mom: "That's what it's asking for. It needs his birth date."
Karen Z. : "Can I see your drivers license?"
Andy (to Karen Z) : "Sure."
Andy (to c.g.2., with furrowed brow) : "You are carding me for buying 'The Jungle Book'?"
C.g.2. : "I guess."

Do I look 17 years old? I'm almost certain that I look at least 20. But, I'll let the 3 cashiers slide for not guessing my age and blame that on the Kmart higherups who engineered the software on their cashier stations.

Why am I being carded for Walt Disney's The Jungle Book? I mean, honestly. The Jungle Book is rated G for General Audiences - all ages admitted. I understand being carded for being under 18 and buying an album that has Parental Advisory stamped all over it. I understand carding me when I purchase a 6 pack of Blue Moon. Both things considered - there should be no problem buying the 2-dvd set of Walt Disney's creation of Rudyard Kipling's collection of stories.

My name is Andrew Clark, and I've been carded to buy a toddler's movie.





Sidenote A: Mom recently called me and said she has the greatest surprise of all time in the mail. Walking out to my car from Kmart, I put two-and-two together and thought to myself..."mom probably sent me the jungle book." If that's the case, I'm sorry mommy. I'll take my version back. Ha.