An IKEA is opening up in Round Rock next week. Which is great, and certainly newsworthy, but does that really merit what amounts to a free half-page of advertising on the Statesman's website? It's a STORE. People are excited, sure, but all this hoo-rah about the opening of yet another chain store--even a popular one--makes the Statesman look like it's staffed by a bunch of rubes.
Chain store's a-comin'! IKEA's a-comin'! Who'd a thunk they'd come all the way out to Round Rock, just to see little ol' us? Boy howdy, Austin's in the big time now!
Listen to this shit:
"At a special preview of the new IKEA on Thursday, visitors were greeted with bins of yellow shopping sacks lined up at the front entrance, blue road signs directing shoppers to various areas of the store, furniture and rugs in dizzying numbers of bright colors and inventory stacked to the ceiling in the warehouse."
Dizzying, I tell you! It was dizzying! I saw all those rugs and colors--rugs! colors! colors! rugs! wahwahwahwah wockita wockita wockita wockita--and, why, I just about swooned. Right there in the warehouse, the very warehouse, in which inventory was stacked to the ceiling!
Note to newswriters: Get a grip. There's a fine line between the lively treatment of a subject that interests you and blowjobs.
To be fair, the whole article isn't quite as breathless (or clunky) as the paragraph I quoted. Still, I haven't seen this kind of goofiness since Krispy Kreme deigned to open a store in North Austin.
How goofy? The main article is accompanied by a story called "How Swede it is: A fun fact sheet in anticipation of our new Swedish neighbor." For example, did you know that Swedish fish are actually from Sweden, whereas Haagen Daz really isn't?
Gosh, thanks, Statesman! But don't you have a major election or a cabinet secretary resignation to cover somewhere? No? Not anymore? That's all over now?
Well, then, phooey. I apologize. Let me be the first to welcome our new particleboard overlords to our community. I still refuse to go near that place until well after Christmas.