For as long as I can remember, I’ve been freaked out, at least a little bit, by the idea of a Lifetime Supply of something.
What exactly is a Lifetime Supply? Do they estimate how long you’ll live and then Fed Ex you a bunch of boxes of whatever it is, so that you can watch your “lifetime” run down?
(Last box!)
Maybe it could be a fun challenge to try to outlive the Lifetime Supply, but honestly it mostly just seems desperate and depressing.
Or do they just keep sending you stuff until you die? In which case, how do they know that you’ve died? Do they implement periodic check-ins to see if you’re dead yet?
Hello, this is Fran regarding your Lifetime Supply. I’m just making sure you still qualify. Can you please leave us a message if you’re still alive? Thanks so much and have a great day!
That’s not an okay call to make. Or get.
On the other hand, there are products that I’ll probably use my entire lifetime, or foods (Lifetime Supply of Organic, unsprayed-with-crap Juicing Cucumbers!), which would be quite convenient. But actually I’d probably just be suspicious that they were merely offloading old phased-out crap because it was eventually going to come out in the local paper that inhumanely “harvested” cat livers were somehow involved in production, or that the product was covered in invisible toxic mold or something. Kind of like how leftover war chemicals were disposed of by rebranding them as pesticides or tooth-enhancers and putting them in the food and water supply (So Healthy For You Now! You’re welcome!!).
No thanks.
It’s good to know that we have a Lifetime Supply of things we actually need, like air, and that we don’t have to worry about the company going out of business following our winning of the heralded Lifetime Supply.
Well, I suppose that’s debatable, but just for fun, let’s not go there right this second.
I envision a mad fleet of UPS trucks following me around my entire life, chasing me to my door with boxes while I, walking fast but trying to appear casual, glancing furtively behind me, eventually dive into my house and slam the door forever, as their endless stream of packages builds up over time, embalming me in my own home where I die, alone, witnessed only by… a whole lot of toothpaste.
I think what I’ve come to here is that no matter what model the Lifetime Supply takes, I’m good without it. I don’t need the concept of the end of my life following me around—even though in actuality, it’s there all the time. What I’m more navigating toward, rather than trying to ignore the inescapable fact that at some point my life will be over, or to constantly remind myself of it, is to just BE; be here. The idea of somehow marrying myself to any one product, concept or way is…weird…and somehow anti-Life-flow. And plus, maybe I’ll get tired of juicing cucumbers at some point. I doubt it.