Something I recently read discussed how too much information paralyzes humans’ ability to act. The essay focused on vast details, general and specific, available on the internet to most Americans. The author confirmed something I’d guessed--a click of a button immediately delivers copious feedback that overwhelms readers. Ironically, that same info often needs a rewrite after the source investigates further. Nothing like a trip to the market and the return home to find out you don’t have the right product.
Personally, I’m most overwhelmed by product choices at the grocery store. In days of yore, shopping rarely resulted in fried brains—an untrue statement these days. Check out the pharmaceutical aisle. Plan extra time to read packaging small print to determine exactly what you’re buying. I needed eye drops. This turned into multiple-choice exam that involved more than the expected three potential answers. I read through ingredient lists of at least six different companies to determine what I needed. The pain-killer section compounded the headache building behind my eyes.
One side of the aisle in this section contains a minimum of four to five shelves stacked higher than my nearly six-foot frame, all filled with medications designed to address human pain. You can select aspirin, acetaminophen, ibuprofen, or something else. Be sure to read every detail because some interact with this or cause that. Others have protective coatings to prevent stomach and intestinal issues. In our house, this gets complicated because each of our bodies handles the same product differently. To make matters more difficult, you have to know what delivery system you want for pain relief: fast or slow-release tablets, capsules, syrup, suppositories, or analgesic cream? To complicate matters, you can buy various patches to apply to specific body parts for direct delivery to said site.
If the pharmaceutical aisle hasn’t exhausted your brain, truck over to the dairy aisle. Just the milk section demands a dozen fast decisions. What kind of container do you prefer—plastic or a wax-coated paper product? Do you want pints, quarts, half gallons, or gallons of moo juice? Do you want whole milk or 1 or 2 percent? To complicate matters, options include almond, coconut, or oat milks.
Same aisle, different case: selecting butter demands intense focus. Generic or brand name? Local or delivered from Ireland with a giant carbon foot print? Flavored or regular? Salted or unsalted? In ¼ pound cubes or pound size rectangles? In specialty stores, you’ll find pound-size balls of Amish butter wrapped in wax paper. What started as a quick trip to the market ends up taking forever as you weigh options and calculate expense.
Due to info overload, quick trips to the market don’t exist. For that matter, don’t count on a quick trip to the Quick Trip. Even in stores intended to collect money fast, you have to choose from among several similar products.
As much as I love headache-free cooking with interesting ingredients, this overload leaves me nostalgic for old-time neighborhood markets that offered one choice of everything. All you had to decide was how much you could afford.