The Written Word
for August 13, 2000

It’s amazing what the mind will conjure up from the depths of what is thought to be the buried past. When I was a young boy I was privileged to have a good emersion in English Literature from a master at St George’s names Captain Basil O. Robinson, "Cappy" behind his back. He had never been to University – behind his name on the school letterhead appeared "Royal Sussex Regiment" prompting one wag to scribble "didn’t he go to school?" Well, unschooled he may have been but he was a hell of an English teacher. And it wasn’t only English stuff either – he was fond of Hawthorne, Washington Irving and O. Henry to name but a few Americans. In fact in my mind’s eye I can still see the "Great Stoneface" in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s great story.

But another piece of, for me, English literature came to mind when Wendy and I went looking for Computer furniture a week or two ago. We are moving and the space of out townhouse is about 1/4 of our house presenting some unique physical problems.

Back at the turn of the century John Galsworthy wrote a short story called "Quality". I remember "Cappy" having us read it and talk about it. It was the simple story of the bespoke boot-maker who made shoes and boots to measure for those who could afford it which is to say, the rich. Along came the assembly line and the shoe factory and the shoemaker, with his quality shoes, was slowly but surely put out of business. The story had a great impact on me even though I haven’t thought directly about it for 60 years until recently. For I have always avoided department stores like the plague and have reveled in quality merchandise even though it is seldom made by one person. I had a split cane rod made for me by Hardys simply because after seeing one made by hand at their factory in Alnwick, England, I wanted one just to possess it. I continue to buy, wherever I can, from small independent merchants.

Now to the story at hand. What to do about two needed computer stations?

Off we went to a large office supply store in Richmond where there were plenty of such stations but since our space was limited we needed a lot of help. We were served by a very nice man who knew absolutely zip about the product. A very nice chap indeed, who had to seek out the company’s bumph on each item – something we could easily have done for ourselves – before offering advice. He had no idea of delivery costs to Lions Bay, where we are moving, and generally was just a very nice young man who was more in the way than a help.

We moved down to the famous Ikea, assuming that they would be more helpful. Big mistake. You have to – and I’m not making this up – stand in line to get a salesperson to help you and then the help was a crisp "let’s get on with it, no nonsense" quick fix. Wendy and I were stunned and we decided to take a recommendation to go to a place called Knock On Wood, not far away, where we knew things were a bit more expensive. Well they were more expensive but we were met by Gus, the owner, who not only knew what we wanted but was able to conceptualize the solution, namely having the wide open spaces of our computer station go up rather than be spread out. He showed us what he could have made for us.

In fairness to the other places, this was good hardwood, beautifully finished furniture … but the point is that we might never have got to this place if it hadn’t been for the superficiality of the other places … and the fact that John Galsworthy’s lesson in Quality was still burned into the brain after all those years.