That is not a flabby tricep. Seriously. It's rock solid. Go on. Jiggle it. Or maybe don't.
Remember waaaaaayyyy back when you were a kid living in the 1970's, and everything you bought was made in America, and you felt a certain amount of pride when you thought about that because things made in America lasted? They were strong, solid, and you knew you would pass them down to your kids?
And then do you remember like 30 years later when everything was no longer made in America, and companies seem to have gotten together to collectively decide to cheapen everything up so we consumers would have to buy new stuff every couple of years, or months, or weeks? I mean, at least these companies are getting rich by selling us more stuff because nothing lasts more than 3 years, right? I feel good contributing to their fat bottom lines. Really, I do. Land of opportunists opportunity, and all that stuff.
It's not that I'm bitter, it's just that the other day I was working with a teacher at the local High School to try to set up a sound system in a car for a parade we would be participating in, and I ran home and got a portable power converter-thingie–you know, the kind you plug into your cigarette lighter and then you can plug like speakers and small tv's and things into it. And it was a little item we'd bought clear back when my older kids were little, like fifteen years ago. We'd used the living shortcake out of it on trips and stuff, but it still worked. Even though it was a bit electrical-taped together.
And then, as we were setting things up, one of the cords sort of came loose and the wires poked out and a connection broke, and I had a heart-attack because we needed this for a parade the next day. My hub was out of town, so I ran to my neighbor who is a sound-system expert, and he said,"Eh, this is easy. I just need to solder it. I'll have it back to you in a jiff."
So I went back to the school and waited. And in a jiff this awesome neighbor came back with my little black box, and all the tape was gone, and things were soldered, and little caps were put on, and it looked brand new. And I thanked him, and he told me I should never get rid of it because they don't make anything that small that powerful anymore. And certainly not that well-made. And this made me think.
We need to protest. We need to start a movement. We need to go back to the country where everyone is honest in business and really is proud of their ingenuity, and really wants their products to work for their customers, and does their best to give us their best.
I mean, I want Mitchum deodorant to bring back its slogan: "So powerful, you can even skip a day!" Because you used to be able to! Can't now, and they don't say it now. But people! Thirteen years ago I ran a marathon on just a few swipes of Mitchum deodorant! That's 26.2 miles without stinking up the race route. Now? I can't run to my mailbox and back on any deodorant without killing the grass beneath me as I go. AND DON'T EVEN SAY IT'S JUST MENOPAUSE, BECAUSE IT AIN'T, PEOPLE! IT AIN'T MY AGING ARMPITS! It's the products we have to choose from now.
Are you with me? We need to write to these companies and ask for their old quality back. We need to start something. So, someone please volunteer. Let's get it going! Let's change the WORLD!
Me? I can't right now.
I'm too busy giving my kids pathetic little half-hearted hugs so they'll have to come back for more.
(But I'll probably write to Mitchum.)
(I was not given any free product from Mitchum or anyone else to say their deodorant has gotten wussy.)
Amen, Sister!