Dad The Dunce

Or is it the consuming public - once again a hapless and helpless foil for the brilliance of the advertising and mass merchandising industries that are having us on yet again - that constitutes one giant collective dunce. In any event, hand over the dunce caps; they've been well earned.

If, after all, a society becomes reliant upon the mechanistic retail industry whose sole interest is enriching their bottom line, to "remember" and appreciate and do honour to loved ones, we've been complicit in abrogating and outsourcing our finer instincts, haven't we?

All of these memorable "honour thy" events for which we require retail nudges in place of deep-seated, natural and intrinsically honourable tweaks of recognition toward those whom we love and respect speak to the basest surrender of ourselves as thinking, emotional beings.

It's just so much simpler to succumb to advertising blandishments that would have us hurry out to those big box stores, spend some easy cash and assuage our consciences. About, say, that neglect of assuring those closest to us of our heartfelt and deeply-felt regard. Forget the smiles, the encouraging words, the hugs.

So that makes of our society complicit dunces in the exercise of loving gratitude. An exercise that should, in reality, be a profound portion of our everyday lives. Where ideally we would be indicating by all manner of little gestures how much we appreciate the presence of our loved ones.

Our wives and husbands, fathers and mothers, children and friends. Instead the institution of greeting cards, and publicly advertised commemorative "anniversary" events are relied upon.
We've got Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, and Father's Day, among other celebratory events in honour of those dear to us.

Where it behooves us because this has become a rote part of societal expectations, to rush into the retail whorl of offerings and buy a symbol of love with which to earn ourselves another year of release from obligatory recognition of deep and meaningful relationships. Rendered, through this retail process rather unmeaningful.

Birthdays, anniversary events, remembrances of all kinds are deeply personal events that have great meaning to individuals. That meaning becomes diluted and infinitely less personal when it becomes public property, and a recognized public priority. The personal becomes a material, not an emotive emblem of discreet attention, when the giver and the recipient both accept that love is bought and sold.

In any event, the entire process can sometimes be good for a belly laugh, so it can't be all bad as a social experience. Manufacturers and retail outlets offering their suggestions and recommendations for what one might conceivably buy to surprise, delight and empower the receiver with.

And since it's Father's Day that's coming up so swiftly on the gifting calendar, the recent advertisement in the local newspaper by Oral B wins the goof-off prize for patronizing idiocy. Here's the text, and it's kind of terrific, actually:

Father isn't the only one
Who knows Best.
Dad has taught you so much - now return the favour.
The Oral-B Triumph with SmartGuide could be the most
useful Father's Day gift you've ever given. It not only tells Dad
how much you love him, but also how long to brush, which teeth
to brush and when he's brushing too hard.

C'mon now, isn't that just about the greatest bit of usefully loving advice you've ever read? It's so good you wonder why other manufacturers of other extremely useful devices for life's idiots haven't come up with their own versions for good old Dad.

And it's hard to say whether this isn't the best way to advise Dad, who likely is too stupid to interpret it in any event, that he's so dense he can't figure out on his own how long to brush which teeth most gently. On the other hand, any loving son or daughter who figures this the perfect gift for good old Dad is demonstrating their own duncehood, wot?

And why stop there, in any event? Keep a sharp eye out for additional useful products for old Dad:

• The toilet roll holder that tells him when to stop pulling, and itself tears off just the right number of sheets for the right "job";
• The bath soap dispenser that can detect Dad's weight, condition of bodily soiled areas, and dispense just the right amount of soap;
• The ultra-sensitive razor that recognizes how much of a stubble lazy old Dad has allowed to grow, and plows it accordingly;
• The self-correcting trousers designed to turn themselves right side out and back to front when Dad has climbed into them incorrectly;
• The necktie with a memory that will tie itself, and kvetch when Dad has soiled it.

Any imaginatively creative and enterprising gift-giver can look out for these brilliant marketing innovations. Coming to a store of note near you in the near future....