I haven’t bought a toothbrush for over 14 years. At my house there is no need because my lovely wife keeps spares on hand at all times. She believes that a toothbrush becomes irreversibly soiled, even after a single use. She changes brushes as frequently as she can rationalize. From time to time the brush I’ve been recklessly using in my own mouth for a week or more is just gone. No worries—the closet looks like a well stocked grocery store shelf.
So you can imagine my surprise when I forgot my toothbrush on a recent trip and went to the store to buy a new one. The toothbrush companies are busy fighting for Suzie’s attention with all manner of point-of-purchase displays, sale prices and exciting new product features. I’d been guarded from this by my friend and for a few moments I was unable to even figure out where to begin.
But then it was the All-American search for the proper mix of price and value. Should I buy the “triple effect†or “massage plus?†I was attracted to the well regarded flex-head family from Crest, but finally my eye was drawn to the Colgate 360. This tool promises to clean my whole mouth by employing, in addition to the normal features, a “unique tongue cleaner.â€
Do you ever see something that makes you ponder the futures that might have been? Like, instead of doing what ever it is that I do, I could have been the brand manager at Colgate who came up with the idea of a toothbrush that also could clean your tounge. Or a copy writer at the marketing agency who coined the phrase “unique tongue cleaner.†Imagine the brainstorming session where they debated using verbs like scrape, scrub and scour before landing on clean. What would that life have been like?
Two advantages quickly come to mind. First, free toothbrushes. Second, Suz would be very interested in what was going on at the office. “So how was work today,†she might say. “Any interesting product developments to share?†And of course I would prattle on and on about what we were working on and she would nod thoughtfully and make suggestions about how better serve the high-intensity tooth brush user.
But alas, I work for a publisher of financial news and other than the offhand comment about the Wall Street Journal editorial page, Suz is not deeply interested our product development pipeline. She does ask questions and I do prattle on (and on and on and on) but one couldn’t characterize her interest as obsessive compulsive.
I bring this up as it relates to the most recent softball game, now two weeks behind us. When I got home from work Suz was preparing to go out. “Where are you going?†I asked, thinking that perhaps she had forgotten that it was sacred softball night. “Sitter gets here in 20 minutes,†she said. “I’m going to the game.â€
It was a special event, both Brad Buggs Throwingdahl Moves Away Like A Jerk Day (Observed) and Suz Merideth Attends A Game Night. It was a good game, too. We were played the other team tough and until the fourth inning slump were statistically within striking distance. I got a big hit and after the game walked to the car holding hands with my wife. We went to the bar ate traditional Italian meat sandwichs, raised a glass to our friend Brad, and presented the guest of honor with a cape-replica that Suz had made.
On the way home we discussed way that the setting sun bathes the B-Squad in a magical gold light. We talked about how sad we were that Brad and Jodi are moving and how by the time they bring you a Dago you are so hungry the sandwich seems like it is the tastiest thing on the planet. She told me she was proud of my big hit and that she really enjoyed coming to the game.
Sure, there are other realities where one might be smarter, funnier or employed at a fabulous job developing features for an essential hygiene product. But as far as I’m concerned listening to Suz talk about softball is all the validation the life we are currently living needs.