The Corn Palace Corollary

I can recall several instances where friends, family, coworkers or strangers have indicated that a possible choice, easily avoidable, is going to produce an adverse effect, only to elect the avoidable path and suffer. This is much different than the types of choices I feel created the debt-encumbered condition of many Americans, that is to say I feel a lot of people encountered financial problems, mainly in the mortgage arena, because the rewards of present choices blinded them to rationale consideration of the consequences near and far. That discussion can happen another time. The choices that inspire this commentary include only those that seem like a bad idea before they happen, then, inevitably result in adversity and regret. The picture to the left is visible evidence that I am not immune to this condition.

<-- Was it the name on the package? I think it was.

Thanks to factors I can only speculate about (genetics, environment, education, luck, etc.), I can clearly remember the first time I made a poor financial decision: sometime during my fifth year outside of the womb. I saved the profits from an under-the-pillow exchange for used teeth (still my favorite transaction, as I was also asleep each time), and took my booty to the mall with my mom. I learned quickly that any good toys would have to come at Christmas, as tooth-fairy money suddenly seemed lacking. However, I didn't come all this way just to walk away empty-handed (not to mention the whole not-much-choice-at-age-5-when-Mom-wants-t0-leave-house factor). I found a bucket full of dinosaur erasers in several colors. T-Rex alone came in 4 options. As I considered those options, I thought I might like to keep my money over the prospect of owning 9 dinosaur erasers, 4 of which would be T-Rex. I also remember weighing the fun of non-moving "toys" vs. the Voltron and other action figures at home. Ultimately, I went with the erasers...and I recall being bitterly disappointed with their lack of entertainment value shortly after getting home.

Fast-forward to this afternoon. I needed something to supplement the meal I brought to work, so I wandered to the vending machines. Quickly scanning the chips/candy machine, my eyes quickly turned to the rotary-refrigerator vending machine and caught sight of a wrapper that read "Big Az Charbroil." My lunch already contained beef, so I investigated the other "Big Az" menu, ultimately settling on the chicken sandwich. Most of me wanted to buy it just to take a picture of the wrapper with my phone and have a small laugh with friends. Most of me also knew this sandwich would taste like shit, and I would greatly regret parting with the $2.75 required to acquire it (which actually turned into $5.50, but we can save that for another time). My five-year old self could have bought all four T-Rex erasers and another (lesser) dinosaur. As I pulled out the wallet, I knew it would be a bad idea, but I did it anyway. As the sandwich turned in the microwave, the scent provided no optimism...the taste even worse. The sandwich was a letdown..or was it? I knew it would suck, much like my favorite South Dakota landmark, which becomes my example for all choices that fit this fact pattern:

You're driving along I-90 east or west in South Dakota. You see billboards and road signs indicating that the City of Mitchell is approaching, and with it, the Corn Palace. You know in your mind that the Corn Palace will suck if you go there. You think this every time you see a new sign, indicating that you're closer. You may even swear to yourself, and your car companions, that you're not going to go. The exit comes. You turn off. Sure enough, you visit the Corn Palace. Just as sure, it sucks.

(Crappy tourist experience will naturally derive from a visit to the Corn Palace).