When I lived in Southwest Virginia, my house was about a mile from a Wal-Mart Supercenter. Although I had shopped at Wal-Mart (NYSE: WMT) for years, the convenience of the big store made it into my go-to place for everything from oil filters to rutabagas. I became a Wal-Mart junkie.
One of the things that I quickly noticed about the Squalor Mart was the fact that it is a perfect example of capitalism in action. In my years of shopping at the store, I noticed that obscure products would show up regularly. Sometimes they'd stay, sometimes they'd leave; it all depended upon how well they sold. For example, when the area got a huge influx of Latin Americans, the store dedicated an entire row to dried chilies, beans, hot sauces, tortillas and whatnot. Similarly, as more and more yuppies began frequenting the store, I noticed a definite spike in organic convenience foods. In both cases, Wal-Mart offered better prices (and better service) than the small stores that specialized in these obscure items.
Wal-Mart's problem lies not with what it can offer, but with what it can't: intimacy and a small scale. This, of course, is why many areas have fought so hard to keep Wal-Mart out. They don't want to lose their cute little neighborhood stores to the big, bad capitalist behemoth, which leads to an inevitable question: can Wal-Mart, the ultimate superstore, offer a shopping experience that is anathema to its time-proven formula?

Lowe's has 







