Ok, I am now officially old. I must be, because I’ve started to receive those unsolicited catalogs that carry, what I like to refer to as, Geezer Products. Oh, come on now, if you’re a Baby Boomer like me, you’re getting them, too. Yeah, you know the kind I’m talking about.
Just today I received the one that contains more geezer stuff than any other. These are the enterprising folks that also bring you the special offers you find with your Sunday newspaper coupons. Their advertising slogans alone are enough to put you right off your dinner.
“The Last Pair of Toenail Clippers You’ll Ever Need!”
“Thermal Underwear For Every Occasion!”
“End Bunion Pain Forever!”
Being a geezer, of course, I sent for one of their cleverly-touted products. It was a weak moment, I know, and now, oh help me, I’m on their mailing list. Which means I’m on every mailing list of every other geezer-grabbing company in the free world.
Yes, I made the mistake of ordering the bathing suit that promised to make me look like Pamela Anderson. My suit must be defective. In mine, I look more like an older, bespectacled, pre-Jenny Craig version of you-know-who. Not good. I’m embarrassed to send it back, though, because what would that be saying?
So now, I am inundated with catalogs trying to sell me stuff guaranteed to make my twilight years easier, more comfortable and free of unsightly nose hair.
Take for instance the exciting offer on the front cover of today’s catalog. According to this fine company, now that I’m in my dotage, I will, most assuredly, want to cut bricks in half.
Apparently, younger women do not feel the need to divvy up masonry. But people of the geezer persuasion, of course, will be thrilled by the fact that MIRACLE SAW! “folds up for safe travel” (doesn’t everyone travel with a saw?) and has a “comfy rubber handle for arthritic hands.”
According to the ad (which obviously got a two-for-one deal on exclamation points), I will be doubly thrilled to know that I won’t have to worry about cutting myself. Should I miss the brick, due to failing geezer eyesight, and start hacking away on my fingers, MIRACLE SAW! will “glide across them harmlessly”. It must be so, there’s an illustration to prove it.
Well, that’s good enough for me.
Yes, I certainly must be on every geezer-marketing list out there. And all of them are of the opinion that I wear nothing but slippers, or at the very least, those sandals with the Velcro straps. Today’s catalog offers some form of toasty orthopedic foot ware on fifteen of its forty-eight pages. No shoes for geezers, nope, just slippers
These marketing experts have arrived at the theory that everyone over a certain age shuffles around, indoors and out, in a pair of something fluffy and padded to the hilt. And, of course, they want in on the market.
They must also believe that Baby Boomers are obsessed with hair. For these catalogs carry a myriad of products guaranteed to restore, remove, tweeze, tease, cut, curl, color, and rejuvenate. I suppose now that I’m over the hill, they think I have nothing better to do with my golden years than to be on the look-out for rogue hairs and dispatch them with a handy Pluck-Away Hair RemovAll System (9.95 plus tax, comes with discrete carrying case for your privacy).
Yes, thanks to the ingenious products offered in these catalogs, I can be identified most easily to any on-looker, as a geezer. Should I cave again, and purchase their products, you won’t be able to miss me with my magnetic knee brace, wristband, neck wrap, and ankle bracelet, all purporting miracle cures.
What the catalog doesn’t mention is the risk of walking through a hardware store while wearing these magnetic devices. Just watch for the woman with hinges and socket wrenches affixed to various parts of her anatomy. And Heaven forbid I should get too near an open box of thumbtacks. There is an upside, though--with my magnetic gloves (guaranteed to stop age spots), I will rarely lose my car keys.
Evidently, we geezers also have a bigger pest problem than other age groups. I’ve yet to figure out the reasoning behind this one, but it must be true, based on the number of products aimed at ridding my life of vermin.
One catalog advertises an ultrasonic device that will send Unwanted Pests & Rodents (there are pests and rodents that are wanted?) scurrying like rats on the Exxon Valdez. Of course, there’s a drawback to this one, too. You may set your high-frequency pest repellent (before shuffling off to the grocery store in your slippers), only to return home to a houseful of dogs waiting for liver treats and wondering why they’re now in your living room. Ah well, it’s a small price to pay for a rodent-free home.
Well, I think I’ll toddle off to the mailbox now, to see what’s in the latest batch of catalogs. I’m thinking of ordering Dan a pair of Sans-A-Belt trousers.