I’m well aware that we live in a new DIY world, in which entrepreneurs of all ages abound.
By T.W. McDermott
I’m well aware that we live in a new DIY world, in which entrepreneurs of all ages abound. Thousands of “folks,” as our politicians like to call us, seem to have suddenly risen one morning with a new zeal to strike out on their own. Or, maybe they just remembered they were newly unemployed and could not find a coveted internship at Staples.
“Whatever,” as the younger folks say. Lately, our postal delivery persons, no strangers themselves to red-ink economics, have been delivering new catalogues created by these new entrepreneurs. Here is a small sampling.
LL Been:
Ever wonder what happens to generations’ worth of really old stuff in the attic and cellar ordered from the original L.L. Bean catalogue? We’re talking somewhat used, very used, and still in the box. Curious about what people do with all those fuzzy slippers, flannel-lined bathing suits, and ice-tennis racquet sets bought when they visited little Miranda or Boscoe at summer camps near Freeport, Maine? Wonder no more; someone “curated” it all and is selling it back to us. Only in America, folks.
Potty Barn:
Yup. We also thought this was a printer’s mistake; however, just one look inside will tell you it’s a whole new idea. We never knew that there were so many with-it ways to do you know what, and these vessels and spaces come in so many “now” colors. Dyson? You bet: talk about your Whooosh! Yes, this collection covers in-house and great-grandma’s old standby, outhouse. There’s even a whole section for SUVs. Imagine the next time someone in the back seat exclaims, “But I gotta,” and you don’t even have to stop! Since this is (or once was) a family newspaper we will spare you any further details. Make sure you see the special “green” section, if you dare.
J. Crudité:
Now you can get your raw veggies in ways you never thought possible. Want them in the shape of a fish, horse, sheep, triangles, circles, Mitt’s profile (deeply discounted)? Get them here. Ever thought you’d be tempted to try turnip ceviche? Well, turnips are the new black as far as raw veggies are concerned. You won’t have to cut up your own anymore; just order from these guys. Did someone say dip? Oh yeah, this is the Big Dipper of dip emporia: hummus from all those countries requiring a zillion shots and three-page visas to visit. By mail!
Lucky Genes:
Well, not exactly lucky. These clever guys are talking about choosing “your” child’s gene pool and being able to have him/her/it bypass those nasty pre-K Mandarin or cello lessons. They claim to eliminate all the guessing about your youngster’s talents, tendencies, and, the one you really care about, college entrance. They mention Einstein, Jobs, Marilyn Monroe, one recent president (libel laws prevent us from naming living gene-iuses). Choose famous genes from the Arts, Politics, Business, Hedge Funds. There’s a special section for Reality TV Stars. Gives a whole new meaning to “Get lucky tonight.”
Irene’s Basement:
Remember last year’s hurricane, Irene? Maybe not, but while we were busy prepping for Sandy, a clever few had already collected, dried (mostly), and repaired thousands of pieces of perfectly fine stuff. One year later, it’s all ready for prime time. Whatever Irene washed or blew away, someone claimed and branded it. Now you can reclaim some of it at great prices.
Victor’s Secret:
We can only say that this would have been much better kept secret, especially since our mail now gets left out by the curb.
