Irony Sandwiches

I feel nothing but embarrassment for the consumer tools who lined up a couple of weeks ago to plunk down $600 for an I Phone. Is there anything sadder than rational human beings chasing a product like nursing puppies angling for an open nipple?

I thought about this a lot while I waited in a block-long line this morning to pick up the newest Harry Potter book. Actually, I wasn't in the line to buy the new Harry Potter book. Nope. I stood in the line for an hour to pick up a bracelet that would determine where I will stand in line later tonight when I finally get my chance to buy the new Harry Potter book.

I'm aware of the irony. Actually, that's not strong enough to describe the feelings I'm having. This is more like choking down a huge Irony sandwich. Only instead of cheese, the deli guys have added big, thick slices of irony. And instead of mayo, they spread on more irony. And there's no actual bread, there's just irony.

Whew! Making analogies is hard work! I wish I could buy some kind of product to make analogies for me.

I'm trying to fight my consumer tendencies. Yesterday, for instance, I took my kids out to lunch at Wendy's. I refused to buy the kids "Happy Meals", despite their sea gull-like cries for cheap toys. While we ate, I looked around the busy restaurant and noticed signs for Wendy's new breakfast menu. One item caught my eye. Apparently, Wendy's noticed that people really suck down the company's square-bunned Frescata sandwiches. Accordingly, Wendy's new breakfast biscuits feature - get this - square biscuits! That's right. The biscuits seem to be exactly the same as everyone else's - except they're square.

Wendy's calls them Frescuits and - God help me - I wanted to try one immediately.

Apparently, I like the taste of irony sandwiches. It's the shape I don't like.