Razor Blades and Clothespins

Your English 101 class gives you an assignment to write a short story or essay based on a random title. Like “Razor Blades and Clothespins.” Go!

 

An easy assignment for me, as it happens to be the exact title of the subject I was going to write about in today’s post! But perhaps yours is more interesting?

 

Be that as it may, here’s mine:

 

A year or so ago, all local stores stopped selling the Trac 2 razor blades that I used with my little razor that allowed a new one to replace an old one without having to buy a whole new razor. More efficient and ecological and it worked. Until it disappeared. So I searched on ye ole Interweb and found some I could order, about 10 for $16. Worried that they too would disappear, I bought 20 of them. Each one lasts anywhere from 4 to 6 weeks, so they lasted a while—until I noticed they’re almost gone. Back to the Internet and there was a knock-off of Trac 2 razors that they claimed fit anything Trac 2 did. The cost? $16— for 100 of them!!!

 

They arrived today and they work! “In your face, planned obsolescence! I’m set for life!” But then did a little math. If each one last four weeks, it would be some 7 years before I ran out. If six weeks, a little over 11 years. Don’t like those numbers, as I’m determined to live past 84 years old. So “set for life” doesn’t ring well for me. 

My choices:

 

1)   Get another 100. That gives me until 95 years old.

2)   Let them run out and then grow a beard.

 

Later that day, my wife told me she discovered a whole box of clothespins in the basement. We love using them to close bags, so they qualify on my list of things that make me feel rich—clothes hangers, paper clips, rubber bands, (razors), pens and such. She used the same phrase— “a lifetime supply.”

 

For you younger folks, this is a little game the old ones sometimes like to play. Will this be my last car? My last jar of tabasco sauce tucked away in the refrigerator? My last passport? It’s not really that fun a game, but these kinds of things cross our mind. Maybe someone could make into a board game called “Mortality.” Put all these items on little cards and try not to have to give them away. 

 

So ends my essay on “Razor Blades and Clothespins.” How did yours go?