Ye Olde Toothebrushe

2001-10-28 - 6:43 a.m.

There's an old, dirty, beaten toothbrush on the ground outside of my work.

Is that a sign?

If so, of what? That my recent days of stagnation are at an end, that I've finally left behind (for the time being) my tendency to do absolutely nothing with my free time but play Playstation? That the world is moving into another period of dirty confuion and discarded ablutions? That it's time to buy a new toothbrush?

How often are we supposed to replace our toothbrushes, anyway? I usually just wait until Christmas when my mom buys me a new one, and I know that's not right...but then I always suspect ulterior motives when I'm told I have to buy something again. The toothbrush industry, secretly issuing messages, bribing dentists, playing with the media, all to raise their toothbrush stocks by insisting that we need to replace those toothbrushes every two weeks or we'll all die of gingivitis, the modern-day bubonic plague...

I once heard that razor companies don't tell us how often their disposable blades should be replaced because they're afraid that those people who use the blade once and then throw it away will suddenly change their habits, robbing the fatcats at Gillette of an extra ten bucks a week. (Thank you "Men's Fitness" magazine for yet another compelling look at the insidious nature of the global corporate conspiracy)

And I worry about that toothbrush...I mean, why is it -there-? Who decided that the sidewalk right in front of my office was the perfect place for a used implement of dental hygiene?

The sorry fact is, that toothbrush has raised such odd feelings of melancholy, and I don't know why.

Cheers,

Magus

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