Vol. 2 No. 71 Sept. 14, 2007


The Bogus Economist
Lessons


School is starting and the air is full of lessons. For one, the Muslim Holy Month of Ramadan and the Jewish High Holy Days begin at the same time this year, which may mean Somebody is trying to tell us something. Americans learned a lesson from Senator Larry Craig of Idaho: tapping your toes doesn't necessarily make you a dancer. There will still be Snow jobs after Tony. Lots of lessons.

The Bogus Economist, for one, realized with a start that the first Christmas merchandise is appearing in stores. Learning this lesson meant he should get busy looking around at the stuff marketers have decided we can't, or shouldn't, live without this season.

Whereas in the past, I have concentrated on The Sharper Image as headquarters of supreme triviality in the gift department, this year I've expanded my horizons, thanks to a catalog I picked up on a plane trip from Boston to Portland. This catalog, called Sky Mall, couples Sharper Image with other competing stuff-mongers producing a compendium of merchandise anyone with a bundle of money and a small warehouse would die for. I have selected only a small, representative sample.

I shall begin with stuff for dogs since our furry friends have been in the news a lot lately. Football mega-star Michael Vick , for instance, loves dogs. Dead or alive. Another dog-lover was hotel magnate Leona (“Only the little people pay taxes”) Helmsley who managed to die with four to eight billion dollars, twelve million of which went to her dog, Trouble. The catch is the dog will eventually have to be buried in Mrs. Helmsley's 1300 square-foot $1.4 million mausoleum. Spending eternity with Leona, who was widely known as the Queen of Mean, might not be worth it.

Sky Mall also loves dogs. I saw several ads for spray-on products to prevent dogs from jumping on beds or couches and vacuums to get rid of the dog hair when those sprays fail. However, I also saw a Pet Staircase that “helps pets to climb to furniture otherwise difficult for them to reach” and another device that will “make it easier for your dog to get up on the bed.” Up, Rover. Down, Rover. Or Fido, especially when spelled Phydeaux.

An ad for the “Million-Germ-Eliminating Travel Toothbrush Sanitizer” (Page 42) claims this tool will get rid of “up to 99% of the millions of germs that can accumulate on your toothbrush.” Don't even think about buying it. Anyone who knows math can tell you if a billion or so streptococci or listeria happens to land on your bristles, there will still be several million getting away scot-free and they'll be the ones who really have it in for you.

The Voice Recognition Grocery List Organizer, on the other hand, can handle “over 2500 food, beverage, household, beauty and office items and recognizes words as specific as swordfish, emory boards and lawn bags.” Anything that could allow a person to shop for, say, a lawn bag full of swordfish filing their nails can't be faulted as missing a thing.

What really struck me as puzzling in the catalog is the flying alarm clock. For those who don't believe anybody would actually spend time inventing anything like this, I shall quote from page thirty-eight: “This digital alarm clock launches a rotor into the air that flies around the room as the alarm sounds, hovering up to 9' in the air and will not cease ringing until the rotor is returned to the alarm clock base, compelling even the most stubborn sleepers to get out of bed on time.” If someone ever gave me one of these, I should probably sneak into his home and put itching powder in his underwear drawer. Why any sane human being would want flying rotors in his bedroom eludes me. I might be tempted to keep a loaded shotgun under my pillow so I could shoot it down.

Another brainstorm (page 41) is “an alarm clock that rolls away and hides when you hit its snooze button, and it continues to emit a random pattern of beeps and flashes, encouraging drowsy sleepers to seek it out in order to shut it off.” Just to make the point unmistakable, the copy assures us the clock has “two rubber wheels that allow it to roll off your nightstand from a height of 2' when it sounds its alarm, so there is no mistaking that it is time to get up.” There will also be no mistaking the language used in describing the product. If you don't mind finding yourself in an embarrassing position trying to find a clock that's hiding under the bed, you shouldn't miss this one. I'd give a week's pay to see Dick Cheney looking for his. Make it two weeks'.

I envy kids learning lessons this year. I hope most of them will be in school. I hope they think up incredibly hard questions to ask their teachers and the teachers go home and realize how lucky they are to have kids asking them. Above all, I hope they'll learn to be good citizens.

Maybe the kids will pass it on to our leaders. They need all the lessons they can get.


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The Bogus Economist © 2007