From time
to time I find myself in a strange position in regards to writing
a story. This article is a fine example of that position. In a
way of explanation, I will delve into my personality for a
moment. I HATE shopping. It is not a casual dislike, it's a bona
fide, permanent hatred of the very act of driving to a shopping
center, wandering down aisle after aisle of things I have no
interest in, to find the one thing I need desperately enough to
warrant my presence in such a confusion. Wal-Mart is the
exception, I take a book, go to the snack bar inside, get coffee,
then sit and read until Laura comes back with whatever I need.
Now there has to be an exception to every rule, otherwise rules
would be for everyone. Right? I reminded myself of that very
thought as I got out of the car
and began the quarter mile walk
to the nearest door to the mall I was about to visit. This
exception which I was about to undergo started way back in Sault
St. Marie, Ontario in June when we first crossed the border into
Canada. As conversations would drift from subject to subject,
around campfires or in recreation halls, the women would compare
shopping stories. Invariable the same location would be offered
by those Canadians present, as the ultimate in shopping pleasure,
if such an emotion exists. The "West Edmonton Mall", in
Edmonton, Alberta, a thousand miles away to the west. Every
Canadian knew of it and there were few we met that had not made
at least one pilgrimage to its famous doors. Hailed
as
the largest mall under one roof in North America, a title it will
soon lose to the "Mall of the America" in Minneapolis
Minnesota when a new wing is opened there. There seems to be a
competition between the two as to which is larger. However, the
West Edmonton Mall will still be the biggest shopping adventure
in Canada. So with camera in hand and wife in tow, for support, I
trudged through the parking lot and into one of the many numbered
doorways, noting that the car was closest to door 31 according to
the map, and hoping that the map is correct. Getting lost would
be quite easy in this place, one wrong turn and your car/truck is
lost forever. Simply put, If you want to buy it, and it's legal,
you can get it at the mall. Enough said about that. I was there
to see what else there was in the way of attractions. Well, to
start with there is a class A hotel, complete with bell hops and
valet parking at the outside entrance. Eloquent and spacious, it
appeared to offer the finest of amenities, plus theme rooms, for
the serious shopper wishing to spend the night. Then there
was the Olympic size ice skating ring at the
convergence of half a dozen hallways, each leading off to some
other activity surrounded by what else? SHOPS. There was Bourbon
Street where everything had a New Orleans flavor, mostly bars and
restaurants there. We worked our way deeper into the maze of
hallways past all that was there for sale until we arrived at a
lake. That's right, a lake, 150 feet wide and several hundred
feet long, with submarines, and dolphins, and one very large
pirate ship, floating at the far end. It was not exactly what I
expected to find in a Mall. The lake was in the middle of a
double pair of hallways, upper and lower. The water was at least
20 feet deep. Around the outer edge, on the bottom of the lake
was a railroad type track on which an underwater vehicle traveled
carrying sightseers through a water world of make believe. At the
opposite end from the loading platform, a pirate ship lay at
anchor. Billed as a party boat, rentable in its entirety for
weddings, or any other occasion desired, authentic looking in
every detail, from its two masts to its 9 pound cannons, it
presented quite a picturesque appearance for that special
occasion.
Astern of this masterpiece,
stretching out to its starboard side was an area occupied by
radio-controlled miniatures brigantines, where for a quarter or
so, you could guide the little vessels into targets of
opportunity setting off signals much like a shooting gallery.
Some of the lake was reserved for the resident dolphins which
performed on the hour for anyone who was passing by. The last
attraction for us to see as we headed toward door 31, was the
biggest wave pool I had ever seen, inside or out. Gigantic fails
to do it justice. The people in the water on the far side were
too far away to recognize. Hundreds of feet of water slide spun
overhead delivering screaming children to their water arrival
into the middle of the pool. It was something to see. Now it's
back to Walmart's snack bar for me, but I will always remember
that once I volunteered to go to the mall and what a time I had.
*** THE END ***