The company pretty much invented the hardware superstore when it began in 1978, simply by being so big. It inflated the neighborhood tool shop into a whole city of lumber, hammers, caulk, power saws, and big rolls of wire. I would know I’m in a Home Depot blindfolded because of a distinct quality to the air—crisp and particulate, smelling like wood dust, paint, and the oiled metal of power tools. The Home Depot smell is buried deep in my childhood, filed somewhere between “building a deck” and…