Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: WEDNESDAY, December 14, 1994                   TAG: 9412140051
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

BACK ORDERED OVER TO THE OTHER SIDE

To many anxious to do the right thing at the yule, it's kind of like the old Johnny Cash song in which he never wanted to hear the word "stampede."

Except stampedes are very fast, and back orders are very slow.

It works like this. Your cousin, Sadie, has ordered your Uncle Wellington a dandy pair of gloves, and later she gets a notice saying these gloves are not in stock but are on back order.

Sadie, who knows what this means but has no choice but to go along with the back order, then screams: "Oh, my God, Luther, Uncle Wellington's gloves are on back order. What have I done to deserve this?"

The above sentence is followed by several minutes of hysterical laughter, and cousin Sadie has to take a lot of Valium.

For Sadie knows that back order means that Uncle Wellington's gloves may get here in time for Arbor Day.

Some of us who are on the verge of insanity because of all this seasonal fun we're having believe that Uncle Wellington's gloves are knitted by an an ill-tempered old lady in Mouth of Wilson who works when she feels like it.

The sweater for your son-in-law may fall into the bottomless back-order pit. It won't improve his opinion of you when you give him a bag of oranges on Christmas morning and explain about the back-order phenomenon.

You can't blame him. Who wants to get a Christmas sweater on St. Swithin's Day?

Back-order disaster is not limited to the glove and sweater business.

If you have to order a part for your Aunt Emily's car, it probably will be available after atomic research has rendered the combustion engine obsolete.

Aunt Emily probably will be on the Other Side, blissfully beyond caring about the transmission in her Jeep CJ-5.

If you have to back-order a VCR part, forget about renting "A Christmas Carol," or buying the latest Jessica Hahn video.

By the time you get the part, Jessica will be too old to make videos and may be making commercials for a denture adhesive.

I think these parts are made grudgingly by an old gentleman in Japan who is still sore about the way the war turned out and would love to ruin your Christmas.

You can't win, so look at it this way: You'd be too embarrassed to buy a Jessica Hahn video anyway.