My New Material
The ad on the shelf shouted at me, “Buy this material because you will live longer and be happier like everyone else, besides, everyone else already has three of them.” OK, I thought, because it seemed logical to do what is best to make me happy and keep me living. In fact, I wanted to live longer and happier anyways. I took my material to the register to check out, but when I went to pay, the man said, “Your paper parchment is no good here, you will need plastic because it is better and everyone else already has three of them.” So I exchanged my paper parchment for plastic and used it to buy my new material because I could not convince myself that it was not important, after all, my life depended on it.
When I arrived at home, I set the material on my kitchen table to get a good look at it and contemplated how wonderful my life was now that I had this new material. Taking a step back, I focused my eyes on my new material to see what it could do.
The material stared at me, and I at it.
My mind suddenly raced with questions: Where was my guarantee of vitality and euphoria? Where was my warranty should my material break? I checked the receipt and read the fine print at the bottom. It read: happiness and length of life is not guaranteed and warranties are available for purchase. Cash only.
As I angrily put my material back in its bag and violently threw it in the trash, I noticed a flyer that fell on the floor from the bag.
In large print it read: To be happy, be frugal, or die buying.
Eric C. Schulz