Knights in White Transits
One thing that has radically changed under lockdown is the status of white vans. Before, they were viewed with wariness, suspicion and even fear. White Van Man was a bad man, here to steal our children and abduct our daughters and girlfriends. His van might have been full of sweets and puppies, but it wasn’t for any good reason, oh no. And you could be sure he wasn’t a good driver, too. You definitely didn’t want to see him in your rear view mirror on the motorway or approaching you on a roundabout.
Now, in our brave new world, White Van Man has been transformed into a hero in his white charger. I sit on my doorstep with my coffee and my laptop and my snoozy dogs, waiting impatiently to catch sight of him. Is that the distant rumble of diesel? Did I hear a sliding door closing across the road? Is someone BRINGING ME STUFF?? In these days of arbitrary delivery times, delayed post, late night random purchases, and drunken Amazon binges, it could be absolutely anything, after all. But let’s not forget that we do have a responsibility to keep small businesses going, as well. It’s not all about that lonely hit of dopamine from clicking ‘purchase now’, even though it’s only a two quid lipstick or a new sink plunger. We can actually be doing something positive if we think about where we’re placing our final click.
Of course, it’s not just white vans. There’s red post office vans, too. We know our postman quite well now. There’s the brown UPS vans, if you’re posh, and DPD and Yodel vans, if you want to take your chances at ever getting your package, or Hermes, if you’re not bothered if it ever arrives at all. There’s a whole slew of delivery companies driving up and down our roads all day and night, and of course, independent companies delivering their own goods. It’s not just Deliveroo and JustEat bringing you your dinner these days; lots of small local businesses are doing their own take out and delivery services, and not just restaurants, but pubs too. You can order a selection of craft beers from your local indie bar, then pop over and pick them up, all bagged up for your convenience. Or maybe you’d like a delivery from your local brewery, several of whom are delivering through the post nationwide. And then there’s gin. Direct from the distiller or from companies like Masters of Malt. Vodka too of course. You can even get cocktails through the post, and that’s quite bloody magical.
I don’t want you to think I’ve just been buying booze, obviously. Sometimes I buy books. Do you know that some authors will sell you their books directly, especially if they’re published by an independent publisher? Or they may at least have advice about where is selling signed copies, or good and ethical bookshops to buy from. They like being asked about where to buy their books from, too. If they don’t, reconsider that purchase. Bad people don’t write good books.
In fact, lots of creatives are selling their own stuff direct right now, and if you can support them, then you should. If you can only do that by spreading the word about them, sharing their tweets or liking their facebook page, then it all helps. Give them a good review, if you do buy something. Promote your local businesses, whilst they’re doing their best to keep going. If you’re going to get the occasional dopamine hit from spending your money online, see if you can also help keep someone else’s livelihood going, rather than make Jeff Bezos a multi-trillionaire all over again. Ebay may be a wonderful rabbithole at three in the morning when you can’t sleep, but there are local wine makers and farm shops and dairies who will deliver a whole host of wonder to your door a damn sight faster than that bidding war you’ll probably lose in the last 30 seconds anyway. And it’s not like you actually want an elephant’s foot umbrella stand anyway. Jesus. What are you thinking? You’d be a lot happier buying a shitload of cheese and wine, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t anyone?
So let’s hear it for those lockdown heroes no one’s clapping for. Our white van men and women, bringing us succour through sun, wind and rain. Delivering our little hits of joy and necessity. Bringing booze, bread and medicine; books, beer and care packages. Without them, we’d be lost.
