Famous Forks

I have decided (this morning at exactly 8:12 am PST) that I will not buy forks, knives or any other form of cutlery from an unknown company or person. I will only buy them from a celebrity endorsed brand. Someone who knows their stuff. A celebrity that is fully cognizant of the intricacies of steel. Someone who can design a spoon that rivals the Mona Lisa or the Eiffel Tower. I need to know my forks, knives and spoons (especially my spoons) have been birthed from the genius mind of any random pop star, tv talk show host or faded movie star from 50 years ago. A grill from an ex-heavyweight champion of the world (boxing, not bobsledding) will most definitely cook my burgers and vegan weenies better and tastier than some random grill designed by a faceless computer.

Why would I buy a blender from some random brand with no celebrity’s picture on the box? That would be stupid. I’m not stupid; just mildly dumb. I want my 600 thread count microfiber sheets made from free-range llama hair to be designed by someone famous. Sheets endorsed and created by latest tv talk show host (who has nothing to do in their spare time away from the studio lights, makeup and free coffee than design sheets) will feel softer on my body and I’ll sleep more soundly knowing the celebrity has my back (and front and feet too). But I wonder how they find the time to balance a showbiz career and also design sheets? How do they find the time to ponder the magic of rayon?

It's bad enough I have to eat cake from a company named after some woman in the 1930’s that was probably never a real woman anyway but a name conjured up in some corporate boardroom filled with cigar smoke. But at least I know my underwear has a real person’s name on the elastic band. I go through life more confidently knowing that Tommy (or Ralph or Calvin) is there with me, helping me navigate this world with the proper cotton briefs. (They may not have been celebrities before they began shilling underwear, but they certainly are now.)

In this faceless, digital, computer-driven age (where robots will eventually floss our teeth), we should all want our toasters and blenders and microwave ovens and socks and underwear and coffee, mascara, bedsheets, pillowcases, cake mix and especially our forks to be endorsed and designed by a real live warm human being—preferably one who’s famous. And who’s picture is front and center on the product packaging.

And one day when I'm rich and famous, I'll roll out my new brand, “Boxers by Bruce.”

It’s the least I can do for my planet.