State of Society Part 1: Toothbrushes

I went shopping for a toothbrush the other day, and my world was shattered.

I've been using the same kind of toothbrush for 30 something years: a plain, straight, pastel or white colored, soft-bristled toothbrush. To be specific, I used to use an Oral-B 60 Soft. I went into my usual retailer, a large chain based in the south, you know, the one that's got everything, including long lines on Friday afternoon. I go to the toothbrush selection, and ponder for a moment where my toothbrush is. I look past fancy toothbrush after fancy toothbrush; nothing plain, nothing ordinary. Then I panic, its not there. Well, I figure that's just the retailer, so I give up and try again later.

My next stop is the drug store where I get my toothpaste, Tom's of Maine Wintermint with baking soda, the same toothpaste my normal retailer decided to stop stocking because not enough people realized that brushing with sugary toothpaste is the single biggest cause of obesity in this country, as I have. I get to the toothbrushes, and almost immediately panic. My toothbrush isn't there, yet again. In its place is a $3 (might as well be $300 in my mind) monstrosity that has angles, shapes, colors, pitched and skewed bristles with different colors, different textures, handles, grips, points, and who knows what else.

Let me tell you what this represents! Society is collapsing. Corporations have gained an incredible stranglehold on our daily lives. We are no longer ruled by a democratic government, they are mere puppets to CEOs, marketing directors, Vice Presidents of Corporate affairs, and worst of all, accountants. That's right, accountants are in charge. The bean-counters, the people we make fun of so much at work for being so near sighted. I know this, because I can't get my toothbrush!

This simple thing, this toothbrush, represents a great deal, not just to me personally, but to all of us, in a profound way. Gone are the days when products had to work. No, products don't need to work anymore, as long as they deliver what the advertising agencies, the mechanism by which corporations have gained control of our lives, promised. So, as long as they sell you a $3 toothbrush that does little if nothing more than a 50 cent toothbrush, but shines, wows, bedazzles, or otherwise distracts us from the true purpose of a toothbrush, we'll buy it. By the way, a toothbrush is only supposed to last a couple of months anyway, so why buy one with so many features?

I'll be sending a copy of this to Oral-B. Hopefully, someone there will either feel sorry for me, or just as a joke, send me a case of the plain ordinary toothbrushes that they have hidden in storage. That's 60 soft please.