I was on the phone with a friend, catching up on things after a short time out of contact when she told me that she had to hurry home from running errands. She has recently retired from teaching grade school children. She tutors children two days a week to keep herself busy, but those two days are the only ones that demand a specific time and performance from her. So, I asked her what “errands” she was “running.”
“Oh, I was shopping,” she said, and proceeded to give me a detailed description of the stores she had patronized, the merchandise she had purchased and the savings and values she had obtained. I woke up just as the droning stopped, and wondered why, in the Internet age, we are still “running errands.”
My Shorter Oxford English Dictionary defines errand as “a journey made for a special purpose; an expedition, a mission.” I suppose that my friend made a journey for a special purpose; she purchased a cashmere turtleneck to replace her cotton one, and knowing that she will spend no dime before its time, I can say with certainty that she entered the store with that specific purpose in mind. But when I hear other people say that they are going to “run errands,” I have a vague sense of unease, a feeling that something is being concealed, and that some other, unnamed and nefarious thing is afoot. (In Christopher Moore’s book Fluke, the protagonist, after having had some fun with one of the occupants of the innards of a whale, notes that they then “did errands,” so I guess that “errands” are ingrained in our culture.)
From the comfort of my home and in the comfort of my boxers, I can make all of the payments that I must to keep the wheels of commerce turning. We can all do this, though some of us may prefer briefs, and some jammies and some… well, let us rein in imagination and wonder why anyone would run errands. Once, we were encouraged to “let our fingers do the walking”; now, they can also do the running. Maybe “running errands” should now be defined in this way: “a term used to conceal a true purpose; a stealth mission. ‘I’m going to run some errands over Fallujah.’” Of course, it may mean no more than this:
“I’m going to the post office, then I’m going to stop by my storage unit. I need to find my portable hard drive and back up some files. I wonder if you have to have already applied for a passport to get a passport photo at the post office? I was thinking of getting a passport photo, just in case. I’ll probably stop by the big-box hardware store to get another packing container, too. Stronger one; those cheap ones are starting to bend and bow. Maybe I’ll go by my favorite big-box discount store. I know, I know: I can’t get in and out of that place without buying something. But I wanted to get a six-inch knife. That eight-inch chef’s knife is too big for some of the smaller chopping. I might stop by the dollar store on the way back. I’m running out of those little pocket packs of tissues. Those things don’t last very long in this weather. The packs are big and fluffy, but when you have an emergency drip, it’s like, two honks, a wipe and done. Convenient, though. I’ll probably get some air while I’m out. I wonder what gas is up to, now? ”
“Running errands” might not save on gas, but the word count goes way down.