Je Suis Fatiguee
A loyal reader recently wrote in with a note. “For Vol. 2 of Gay Uncle’s Guide, I think you should swap out the wipe warmer references to make room for this gem.” Shut. Up. What is this extraordinarily significant new product that will revolutionize the way in which children are reared during these cruel, pain-inducing times? Well, it’s a patented, fashionable, 100% cotton, washable, biomorphically molded…(wait for it)…Shoulder Pillow!! Oh my god! Is this not exactly what you have been praying to god to deliver? Fuck extending your unemployment benefits, or rebuilding our failing infrastructure, or providing health care for the 50 million folks who lack it. This is IT. No longer will you have to suffer through “shoulder fatigue” after having a little one’s head rest on your deltoids. Unh-uh! Now, both parent and child can immerse themselves in the void of blissful, fibrous comfort. And not only that. The press release describes it as “egonomic”. Ideal for our narcissistic times! Need to burp that baby after a boob juice binge? Compelled to give that toddler a comforting hug when they fall from atop the coffee table? Wanting to greet your three year-old between your three part-time jobs? Don’t rush into things. “Just a sec, darling. Mommy has to go grab her Shoulder Pillow.”
The G.U. was convinced for a nano-second that, with the death of capital, people would stop–or at least significantly retard–their production of this kind of FUNDAMENTALLY MORONIC JUNK. But, according to his pal Heidi Stevens–parenting columnist for the venerable Chicago Tribune (and all-around amazing person)–there is some sort of last gasp going on. “Maybe this is the point just before the bubble bursts, but my PR pitch load has reached extreme levels of late. I don’t know if people are trying to save their jobs by getting some press for their products, or if marketing budgets have been slashed to the point of just hoping for free publicity from the (increasingly irrelevant) press, or maybe a little of both, but I’m getting double the calls and e-mails in the last few weeks. Maybe (hopefully) if the PR stops working, they’ll stop churning the crap out.” So the Gay Uncle predicts that you all are either in for an onslaught of desperate promoters competing for your increasingly limited disposable ching-ching, and/or a new market will develop out of this very desperation, preying on your desire to insulate your precious cargo from the increasingly hostile, painful, and egonomic world.
Armored Bugaboos anyone?