2008
Jul 
21

Just One More Sign

9:42  
 

that I am turning into my father

Not that it is a bad thing. Quite the opposite, in fact. However, my dad seems to have this weird set of things that happen to him. For a long time, I admit, I thought that it was because he is just particular or fussy in certain, strange ways. For instance, he used to tell us that he believed that he had a sign on the top of his car that was invisible to him—but visible to assholes—which indicated that people should drive like assholes when they are around his car.

The scary thing is that it does sometimes seem that way.

Another seemingly odd thing is that my dad will only wear Jack Purcell sneakers. Now, this wouldn’t be odd, except that the late, great Hunter S. Thompson also only wore Jack Purcell sneakers, and that they have become increasingly hard to find. My mother, bless her, goes to relatively extreme lengths to procure said sneakers for my dad. Or at least she did until the advent of really good internet commerce. Now I think that she buys them online.

This is not the only thing that my dad has trouble finding though. It seems that almost everything that he likes simply goes out of business, becomes unsupported, or disappears completely. Other things, like hand-held computers—which I argue have just evolved in ways that have made them unrecognizable, though Dad has compelling arguments as to why this is not the case—have gone out of vogue to the point of non-existence. Certain very good spam removal software, cordless 18v power tools, computer peripherals, et al have simply ceased to exist once my dad has taken a liking to them.

Now, this has happened to me to some degree in the past. Something that I buy once, and then like, seems to not be available when I go back to get more. It has usually been something that I could take or leave: nothing too important.

Until today.

This morning I went to buy deodorant. I have a brand and type that I particularly like because it has no aluminum in it and yet it still acts as a deodorant. It is Adidas brand Cotton Tech antiperspirant produced by COTY. When I left for Egypt last fall I took 8 sticks of it with me because I like it so much.

Now, it isn’t that this is just a brand or a type that I particularly like, but it is the ONLY antiperspirant on the market that doesn’t use aluminum. It uses some other stuff, like powdered cotton, and it is the best deodorant I have ever used, and the only one that has ever really worked.

The ONLY ONE on the market, keep in mind.

So, I go to the store today to get that and a few other things. I don’t see it. Finally, I spot the Adidas brand deodorants. I look at the labels. Those labeled “deodorant” have no powdered cotton stuff in them. Those labeled “antiperspirant” ALL have aluminum in them. Then I spot one that boasts about cotton something. I pick it up, thrilled—though the packaging is very different than what I am used to—and swiftly realize that it is not what I am looking for.

This antiperspirant has the same cotton stuff that my old one did AND is has aluminum zinconium—or some equally heinous-sounding shit—in it.

Damn, I thought, and decided that I would just check at a different store. I did, and they didn’t have what I was looking for either. They had the women’s variety, though.

So I figured that I would just come home and look online and then buy it on the internet.

Oh no. No, no, no.

I looked EVERYWHERE for this stuff. I even copied the information off the label of the last stick that I have. Nothing. NOTHING.

It is not jsut as though this stuff doesn’t exist, it is as though it has never existed. There is no evidence of it ever having been sold anywhere.

Fickle internet.

So here I am. Without deodorant—though I know that I left about 3 sticks of it in Egypt and am now fiending to have it when I go back in a month and a half. I have exhausted every online source for deodorant and I can’t find a single stick. Even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to buy enough of it to keep me in aluminum-free antiperspirant for the rest of my life, which is what I would need.

So, I am furious. The problem, again, is not that I liked the brand or that type or anything and could easily replace it with something similar. The problem is that there is ABSOLUTELY no other similar product on the market.

So, my options are as follows: 1) Find this stuff and stockpile it if it is the last thing I do. 2) Write an angry letter, receive no response. 3) Find an alternative that doesn’t even come close to doing the same thing. 4) Stop wearing deodorant altogether. 5) Learn more chemistry. Find the ingredients on the label of the one remaining stick that I have in my possession—read: cold dead hand. Create a concoction based on these ingredients and then use the ol’ trial-and-error method to sort out the proper proportions and method for making it.

I carry the curse of my father: the curse of liking brilliant things that are destined to either fail or simply disappear from the consumer market.

I suppose that I will go back to writing my thesis now, just sweaty and smelly.

Damn.