Your Mail After 50

Your Mail After 50


    Consider this a public service for you younger folks.  The second you turn 50 files with your name will pop up like toast in databases everywhere.  You will at that time become a target of opportunity for a host of age-related products.  Your mail will never be the same again.
    The first incoming round will be from AARP.  Now I’m sure they have benefits and discounts to save you money, but as long as they are allied with United Healthcare they will never get a dime out of me.  You’ll begin receiving letters or brochures from the Scooter Store and other mobility devices, hearing aids, adult diapers, and life insurance.  Oh, the life insurance offers you’ll get.  These people know from their actuarial tables that you are now on the down side of life, so they’d like to get some money from you before you croak.
    You can look forward to correspondence from cemeteries and funeral homes, who would also like your business, or what ‘remains’ of it.  The first time I got a flier from The Neptune Society I thought, “Oh boy, astronomy!”  They have nothing to do with the sciences, though; they are a brokerage outfit for cremation services (I’ve heard they’re pretty good).
    Then there’s what I refer to as sexual augmentation technology, in my case, tailored for men.  This will include ads for boner pills, creams, tinctures, balms, and other assorted snake oils, all of which guarantee to help you spring into action (When the time is right, will you be ready?).  One of these gizmos is from the scientific minds at Pos-T-Vac.  If you watch much late-night TV, you’ve seen the ads, but the brochure I just got was much more detailed, and prompted me to write this post.
    You will learn that the Pos-T-Vac’s patented “EREC-TECH Therapy-ED” promises erection on demand, and is 98% effective.  ED is not someone’s name, but a medical reference to what I think is called a reptile dysfunction.  I’m not sure I heard that radio ad correctly; my hearing isn’t what it used to be.  This particular contrivance is touted as “a premier vacuum therapy system.”  It’s a pump you attach to your penis.  The brochure states that “The EREC-TECH offers many therapeutic benefits.”  You mean like lowering your cholesterol or blood pressure?  Not exactly.  “In some cases, it is used as a daily exercise to prevent non-use penile atrophy.  Gee. I’ve never heard it put quite that way.  It’s ever so much more elegant than vulgarities like losing the lead in your pencil or having the Bishop fall asleep, while avoiding the more negative “impotence.”
    The ad climaxes with “The EREC-TECH, as a stand alone system (I assume no pun is intended), will produce an instant erection sufficient for sexual intercourse for any man.”  Well, not ANY man, 98% of them.  Oh, and let’s not forget that it’s FDA approved, recommended by leading urologists, proudly made in the USA, and covered by Medicare and most insurance.  It doesn’t mention anything about a warranty.  I have no doubt the apparatus works, just as I have no doubt that a cattle-prod works.  I’m just not comfortable with having my most sensitive valuables hooked up to a glorified vacuum cleaner hose.  It’s important to mention here that mankind long ago evolved a very ‘handy’ means of preventing non-use penile atrophy.  It’s been said that nature abhors a vacuum, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to go along with nature on this one.
    I hope I’ve given you some idea of what you can expect as you reach your golden years.  A good spam filter will keep this stuff out of your email, but neither rain, nor hail, not dark of night will prevent your mailpersons from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.  However, there is one thing you can do to ensure that you won’t get this stuff in the mail.  All you have to do is support those filthy, goddamned Republicans who want to get rid of the U.S. Postal Service and privatize your mail.  Then those companies won’t be able to afford the new rates, and they’ll all go out of business.  Of course, it’ll cost you five bucks to mail a letter, but won’t that be a small price to pay?


*  “Mature” used to be a magazine for people over 50.

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