Brands – Still a Thing?

What brands do you associate with?

I guess loyalty to Brands is still a thing. I think younger generations might be falling away from that. Does the buck stop with Gen X, or do the older Millennials do brand loyalty now?

I don’t feel loyal to any brand anymore, but there are some name brands that I trust. It probably stems from my childhood. Plus, I am a little OCD, and I don’t like change in certain parts of my life. Sometimes I think this is why I hang on.

Quality might be another. But I wonder if even that’s there anymore. Some Brands, I see, got worse and stayed worse. And some got better and stayed better.

The thing is that trust has been dashed by the buying and selling of brands from one company to the other. Sometimes my heart breaks when I see what’s become as some brands from my youth.

Regardless, some of the brands I tend to stick to among the food line are Kraft, Nabisco, Keebler, Frito Lay, and Green Giant. Also Gerber. Of course that’s not necessarily a brand of food, but I tend to reach for it for baby showers, as well as Pampers. Are these products as good as they were when I was young? I think some of them are better, but I do not enjoy brands going from one place to the other. And how many Brands left the United States for other countries?…and they want my loyalty? I don’t like it when American brands are not made in the United states.

And then there are some things that I will not purchase. For instance I like fish – cod, perch, bass, catfish, whitefish. Also shrimp. I will not buy seafood from certain countries. I was certainly glad to see the day where the country of origin was forced to be placed on the package.

Anyway, I’ll leave those places nameless so that I do not offend anyone unintentionally.

Then there are the car brands. While I never considered myself having a favorite brand of car in my lifetime thus far, up until 2022 every single new car (5) and all used cars (5) – with the exception of one, were American brands, union made. And that’s always the way I liked it. But, last year I wanted to buy a new car, and wanted to get back into a sedan. I had a Jeep then.

I checked the American car brands and they did not, at that time, offer the sedan I imagined for myself. I looked and looked. The ones I liked best were way out of my price range. I cringed at the hought of a foreign car brand but felt I should do my research

I ended up with a Toyota – foreign, but assembled in the USA. I’ve never owned a car where the car maker originally started in another country.

I just don’t consider myself a brand loyalist for the most part. Sometimes I just buy what’s on sale. Sometimes I buy store brands. There is one exception. I prefer Kraft cheese. And it’s something I will buy nine times out of 10.

I also used to be a Sony loyalist. I remember my first Sony Walkman, purchased back in 1986-87! I remember holding that Walkman thinking: this is an excellently made product! And I continued to buy Sony’s on and off for decades. But even they’ve changed, I think.

The problem with brands is that they start out with the promises. Promises such as: I am made excellently! I will be here for you forever; you are what’s most important to me.

Then some huge corporation that owns many brands comes along and offers them a flat rate to buy them out. Sometimes because the product or recipe is excellent, and sometimes they just want the stamp out its popularity.

The most important factor should ot be whether the consumer is a brand loyalist, but whether the brand should be a consumer loyalist. I mean, look what happened to Twitter! Yes, it happens there too. Twitter failed its users. And the people who sold that social media product should be ashamed.

Storm Dwellers, chapter 4 – an excerpt

STORM DWELLERS

Chapter 4, excerpt

It was quiet again in the SUV. Lynn turned to check on Darcy and found dozing; her head bobbing from the motion of the vehicle.

Lynn yawned. She was sure they had been driving the same road for hours, maybe even passing a few places twice. Round and round.

Something doesn’t want us to make it home, Lynn thought to herself. Damn rooster! Again?

For the third time, Lynn soared passed by a stationary red and black rooster, rooted in place like statue with the exception of a few feathers tousled by the wind.

Immediately after, she whizzed by a welcoming sight, a sign that read: Black Willow 10 Miles. Overcome with a sense of immense relief, her heart rate slowed as her hands loosened on the steering wheel.

“Finally! We’re almost home, Darce,” she whispered as she patted Darcy’s arm.

Lynn and Darcy spent most of their lives in Cameron County, Texas. Meeting in the first grade, they hit it off immediately as if they were meant to be friends.

Darcy walked up to join the line accumulating outside to enter Miss Julie’s first-grade classroom, and her eyes landed on Lynn. She was drawn straight to her, and she crossed the grass like a boss, jumping the line as she bounded up to Lynn.

“Hello, I’m Darcy. I think I know you.”

Lynn studied Darcy; head tilted. She smiled.

“I’m Lynn. I think you’re right.”

A gust of wind blew, shaking the tree leaves. Some children, parents and teachers alike lost their grip on papers and took off chasing them around the grounds. Girls and ladies giggled or hollered out as they fought to control fluffing skirt tails.

Darcy and Lynn watched the chaotic sight on the school grounds.

“I wonder why the grownups are so frustrated and chasing papers,” Lynn said. “They just need to calm down. Let those papers fly away!”

They laughed and had been inseparable since that day.

“I saw your mommy in my dream,” Darcy told Lynn the morning they met. “She sang to me in words I never heard before.”

“Nope. That ain’t right,” Lynn said. “You didn’t even meet Mommy yet. And she doesn’t sing in anything but English, silly.”

However, when Darcy met Lynn’s mother, Angela, she told Lynn that Angela was not the lady she had seen in her dream; she did not look anything like that woman.

“I told you so,” the young Lynn stated.

“Yes, but,” Darcy persisted, “she told me that she’s your mother. I promise.”

Lynn was unable to wrap her young mind around it at the time, but she never forgot that day, and she was always curious about the woman Darcy dreamed. They talked about it a few times over the years, but never in depth and they never wholeheartedly pursued the dream woman’s identity.

When they were older, they searched Lynn’s old family photographs to see if they could find the woman among them. Lynn and Darcy made plans to save money and have an artist draw the likeness of the woman from Darcy’s memory of the dream since she had no drawing skills of her own.

One day, right before they entered the eighth grade, Darcy and Lynn took an introduction to French class at the library.

“That’s the language the woman sang to me in!” Darcy exclaimed.

***

Sybil and Terry Mendez’s mother, Adelina, claimed a lineage dating back to the Texas statesman, Jose Antonio Navarro. Their father, Richard, on the other hand, did not talk much about his ancestry, in fact, he went out of his way to avoid discussion of his ancestry so often that even it left Adelina and her daughters wondering about it. When they would inquire about their paternal ancestry to their father’s parents and other relatives, they always got jokes and snarky remarks in return.

Their father’s maternal grandmother, Paz – who was still alive and kicking at ninety-four, always told them that their father enjoyed rebuffing the ‘ooga-booga’ side of the family.

As kids Sybil and Terry would run around hollering, “ooga-booga!” which in turn made their dad, Richard, quite unnerved.

Copyright 2023 Wanda S. Paryla

Music Everywhere

Music is everywhere waiting to spring forth charm the senses free the soul express our deepest yearnings I hear melodies in the treetop breezes water passing over rocky streams bell-like laughter of a child’s delight. Music fills our world gift of the angels above. Stop today to listen let it fill your heart with love.

Music Everywhere

Writing While Supporting Your Mental Health

As writers, it’s not uncommon to continuously search for new opportunities and attempt to come up with new story ideas. But there is always the threat of trying to do too much too soon, which can take a toll on our mental health. There is the struggle with mentally pushing yourself forward with your writing. […]

Writing While Supporting Your Mental Health

What are you waiting for?

So. What if I asked you this same question: What are you longing for?Susan Cain Life is so subtle that sometimes you barely notice yourself walking through the doors you once prayed would open.**Brianna Wiest The tricycle kid is waiting for something amazing to happen,But maybe it already has. Transcendence can be subtle like that […]

What are you waiting for?

Writing Prompt – My Ideal Week

Describe your ideal week.

My ideal week is just being alive and well. I’m grateful for every day. That being said, if I could have an ideal week looking out my window at the Smoky Mountains, or the ocean, with nothing to do but write, eat, and ride roller coasters, that’d be great.

Well…

If you had to give up one word that you use regularly, what would it be?

I have a terrible tendency to start just about any sentence with the word well. I actually find the word showing up in dialogue in my fiction.

A Tear of Joy

What brings a tear of joy to your eye?

Looking at photos of my pets who’ve gone to the Rainbow Bridge. I miss them.

Writers, Inspiration Will Fail You

I had a professor in college who often said, “Inspiration will fail you.” She was very right about that. Many authors wait around to be inspired. They wait for the muse to appear with an amazing idea, one that fills the page with vivid prose and vibrant action.  And when inspiration fails to appear, those […]

Writers, Inspiration Will Fail You

Storm Dwellers, chapter 3 – an excerpt

STORM DWELLERS

Chapter 3 excerpt

Instead of diminishing, the smoke increased, the ground shimmered red hot where the lightning hit. Rain poured down; the ocean stirred violently, and waves rose. A supernatural storm surge rolled toward the island. Lightning struck the water and it roared and foamed in response. Water vapor rose high as the sand glowed as if it were boiling. The vapor turned into a thick, smoky wall. Multi-colored energy illuminated the sky, dancing with the radiance of a strobe light.

Lynn sprinted toward Darcy.

“Darcy, the PIN!”

“34343!” Darcy answered over the wind. “Benny! Move it. Run!!”

Lynn finally got the phone unlocked. She saw the GPS was on, so she opened the Facebook app and typed ‘help me s padre send cops’ on his timeline, tagging a few random people then hit the send button, then dialed her mother, Angela’s, number.

Benny screamed, “Darcy!” Then took off running, but in the wrong direction.

“No, Benny,” Darcy yelled, “go left. To your left!”

He veered left, but abruptly stopped once again. Directly in front of him, a gruesome, yellow-eyed creature emerged from a wall of smoke stemming from a magma puddle.

It was a sight to behold, and Lynn stood frozen with Benny’s phone to her ear, listening to her mother’s phone ringing; the ring staticky and broken.

“Hello?” Angela answered. “Ben…th…you? What’s that noi…”

“Mom?” Lynn said. “Mom, help us. We’re on SPI. Near UFO. Send help.”

“Lynn, why…you have Benny’s…” the phone crackled, “…on the island..”

“Mom, please, this is not a time for questions. I’m begging you, send help!”

“Help? To you?” Angela’s voice turned sinister. “You’re a big…girl…now, witch!”

“What the hell…” Lynn said.

The phone popped and sparked and got hot in Lynn’s hand. She pulled it away from her ear and dropped it onto the sand just as it burst into flames.

Lynn growled her frustration and stomped her foot on the phone dowsing the fire.

Copyright 2023 Wanda S. Paryla