Fiercely Dependent

When I first came to Vermont, in the very early 1990s, I was in the market for a computer. I don’t remember exactly where it was, but I found a little computer store that put their own boxes together. That was a pretty popular thing to do then. This particular store was a Vermont outfit, though, and each system they put together proudly displayed a “Made in Vermont” label.

At that time “Made in Vermont” was supposed to be some kind of sign of quality or exclusivity or something; I never really figured it out.

In any case none of those machines were engineered or designed or manufactured in Vermont. Some very sophisticated electronics from Asia were assembled and some software from Washington was installed. Somehow, I even doubt that the “Made in Vermont” sticker was locally produced. Even if it was, the ink and plastic weren’t.

If you live in Vermont and want maple syrup, by all means, buy local. On the other hand, what is a New Mexican to do if maple syrup is desired? Do without because local maple syrup is unavailable? Better advice to those seeking maple syrup is don’t buy local, buy Vermont. Vermont maple syrup is good stuff. Vermonters wanting eggs, or milk, or cheese, probably should buy local. If you need a car, or a pair of glasses, or some clothes, well, you’ll have to buy that stuff from somewhere else. None of it is made in Vermont. Neither Volvos, nor Subarus, nor Carhartt jeans. Not even that newest form of Vermont butt jewelry, the Prius.

If you live in Alabama and want a rocket to the Moon, or a Mercedes Benz SUV, buy local. Rockets to the Moon are made in Huntsville, and the SUV is made in Tuscaloosa County.

If everyone bought local, Vermont would be out of business. Vermont’s biggest industry is tourism. Outside money is an absolute requirement for the success of the state’s economy. Vermont is tiny and not very self-sufficient; most products used here are imported from elsewhere.

One day my wife and I entered a little sporty clothing boutique in Middlebury. She was looking for shoes, and found the place to be expensive, so she browsed a few minutes and decided enough was enough.

Little or none of what was in the store was of local origin. Much of it was European. As we were leaving, the clerk called across the store to us, “Remember, you should buy local.”

Right, bud, no problem. I called back across the store, “We’ll remember that when we get back to Knoxville.” And we left.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 15th, 2009 at 3:57 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.