I remember when Wal-Mart was an American discount store and a damn good one. Starkville had one of the first stores outside of Arkansas so my recollection of the former retailer goes back further than most.

Today nothing short of a pure emergency will drive me into that toxic freak show of hollow consumerism.

This isn’t a eulogy nor a hit piece on “what the hell happened to Wal-Mart” per se. There isn’t time for that. That’s all in the past and Wal-Mart is looking to the future. They’re planning robotic drone shopping carts.

The fat scooters were enough. Too much. And they didn’t stay confined to Wally World for long. Two years ago I was devastated to learn those accursed contraptions had made it into the National. You probably read about my pro-shop screaming fit in Golf Digest. It was Sunday before the ordained time for the sale of beer and it was a little too much for me.

This will be much worse. Robots hate us just for being us. It won’t be long before People of Walmart pictures are called for as evidence in the murders these mechanical monsters shall surely commit.

The interim will be the worst of all. All those Pokemon chasing, slovenly zombies calling up drones while slurping off 96 oz. Jumbo Slurpees. The robots buzzing around – running over children and old ladies. One will need an automatic shotgun on a tactical sling to make it down any given aisle.

This also represents the absolute demise of the American slob, Wal-Martian Americanus. Pushing the carts was the last form of exercise they had.

At least we’ve been warned.