I have good news and bad news.

I think you’re the type of reader who would rather get the bad news first. So let’s just quickly point out that Sam’s Club had a minor E-coli problem with their lean, ground meat. (I know for sure that it was ground and one outta three ain’t bad.) I shouldn’t compose food poisoning jokes. They’re worse than nuclear fallout jokes.

The good news concerns my new office chair. It’s a leather, deluxe model, exec-o-tron extraordinaire and I got it at Wal-Mart for an extraordinary low price. (I just looked up extraordinary and it means strange or bizarre. Hmmm.)

The best news is that I’m much more comfy now because of the soft arm pads, which promise to add years to my typing career.

So, Sam’s sold bad ground meat; Wal-Mart sold a great chair. That’s a push, in a disturbing sort of way.

My old prof wanted his life story to be called, “Stephen Good, Stephen Bad” and I want the Wal-Mart story to be called, “Wal-Mart Good, Wal-Mart Bad.” Can you imagine how difficult it would be to get the film rights to “The Making of Wal-Mart”? This is how I would do it.

I’d fly into B-ville and meet them face-to-face. (The current odds on that happening are slim.) But if I got to pitch to them, I’d sit in one of those teeny, tiny chairs that first graders use, near a screaming A/C vent, blinded by floodlights … and they’d all sit in leather, deluxe model exec-o-trons extraordinaire (just like the one I’m sitting in now).

And I’d say, “I’ll pay you for the rights to option the story and I’ll write anything you want and make you look like the nicest guys in the world.”

They’d ask, “How much?”

I’d reply, “As much as you want me to pay.”

Then, after my check cleared, maybe, they’d allow me to make the film.

But that’s why we relate to Wal-Mart. Just like my old prof was good and bad, and just like you and me are good, then bad (“Donnie Good, Donnie Bad” was the original name of this blog) Wal-Mart is human. Their blind spots are our blind spots. Their greed reminds us of our greed, just as their efficiency reminds us of our own efficiency.

“Oh, I get it! The duality of man!”

I’m quoting a family member who didn’t approve of something I’d done.

TRY THIS WHEN SOMEONE GETS MAD AT YOU:

Should you find yourself quarrelling in public, inappropriately a la Larry David, just say gently, “The duality of man” (you can add the words “or woman” if you have time). This will infuriate your verbal sparring partners and they will probably make a mistake and lose the argument. Your opponents slash irritants slash don’t-get-me-started will think you called them psychotic when in fact you have called them schizophrenic. (I could have those two reversed but the point should be obvious.)

Yeah, I understand duality. If it’s hot, I’ll wear a tee-shirt. If it’s cold, I’ll wear a winter coat. If you’re nice to me, I’m nice to you. If you’re hostile, I’ll harbor hostile feelings and act upon them as quickly as I can, like any Scorpion (except for those Scorpions – not me -- who will smile at you for a year, like nothing’s wrong, and then, when you’re feeling safe, push you off a cliff).

There: that’s my “duality of man” rap.

As Tom Petty wrote, “She’s gonna listen to her heart.”

Of course, TP also wrote, “Don’t come around here no more.”

As Big Lee would say, “Duality of everybody”

MAILBAG:

Dear Don: Duality of man? A few weeks ago, it was replicants and metrosexuals. What gives? Sincerely, A Loyal Reader

Dear Loyal Reader: I can sum that up in a poem fragment that I wrote years slash decades ago:

FEAST OR FAMINE,

FEAST OR FAMINE.

I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S WORSE.

FEAST OR FAMINE,

FEAST OR FAMINE.

THE BLESSING IS THE CURSE.

That poem, while written about eligible young women in the Los Angeles area, also applies to Wal-Mart.

-- Don Rutberg