34) The American fitness regimen

33) Name-brand sink drains

Sorry to break it to you, Price-Pfister: of all the indignities of life, I don't count advertising on my bathroom sink drain as the most tolerable.

32) YKK

Why isn't the Department of Justice looking into this all-out, no-holds-barred monopoly in the market for zippers? Ninety-five percent of the clothing I own has a YKK zipper, and this is how it's been ever since I was a wee one.

Can you imagine the pricing power these thugs must have? I say they're just begging for an anti-trust lawsuit.

31) U. S. involvement in the 2010 World Cup

I had a premonition watching the US-England match this weekend, and it's this: the US won't achieve material progress/success in international competition until it surpasses two milestones. My reasoning follows . . .

1) We'll never go all the way with beauty pageant jerseys. I can't see our men on the "pitch" w/o imagining tiaras to match their white sashes.
2) Above all, we must abandon our laughable insistence on announcers with accents that are British, Irish or some guttural derivative thereof. I know the Brits have a rightful claim to the sport, but enough of this Old World deference -- let's show some ownership and impassioned expertise of our own.

29) The Convenience Valet drinking cup

A rare visual aid here:

When I got sick on a vacation last year, this paper drinking cup came with the overpriced, travel-sized cold-relief tablets I bought in a sparse and dimly lit RV campstore a hundred yards from the craggy Pacific. It seemed awfully (abundantly!) generous of them to provide -- a thoughtful gesture to say the least.

It turns out my gracious instincts had been pre-empted, for the humble company subtlely reminded me that they were Thinking of Me when they included the small paper envelope in the package. They go as far as to refer to their company as Convenience Valet. Indeed, it seems like such a privilege to use their brilliant creation; I was left wondering, "whom should I tip for this excellent service?"

Lucky for us, they provide a website at the bottom of the cup in case we want to find out more about this marvel of modern design. Who knows, maybe their website showcases other ingenious creations they've been thinking up at this incubator for innovation.

30) Another TSA conversation to which I wish I hadn't been privy . . .

This time it was between two TSA agents. “Are y’all missing a uniform?” asked the woman. I think the answer was something reassuring like "I don't know."

In terms of things I don't want to overhear aiport security personnel discussing, this is right up there with "Under which rock do we hide the keys to the airplanes?"

28) The New York Times showcasing real estate for sale in Calvert, Texas

Let's face it, everyone: the New York Times allows me and other dreary, uninteresting people the illusion that we have our finger on the pulse of urbane American society -- no matter how far-removed we are from the vein.

However, the Gray Lady no longer serves as an escapist refuge when it features real estate in Calvert, Texas. Survey the "Great Homes and Destinations" article (and slide show) for yourself.

Not to be mistaken, 19th century homes are rare and captivating in these parts, but here are the parts I find objectionable:

• "This house is on a corner in the city’s historic district, a section of homes and low-lying businesses dating back to the late 1800s." I've driven through Calvert several times, and having grown up in a similarly small town about 60 miles north of Calvert, I can tell you this description is over-romanticized; by "historic district" they mean a row of dismal, dusty and vacant store fronts, where there's been very little sign of life since the late 1800s.
  
• "There are a few shops and restaurants along Main Street, including a European-style chocolatier." A European-style chocolatier? I bet that means they sell Ferrero Rocher and Godiva instead of Hersheys. I can guarantee you that Juliette Binoche wouldn't dare step foot in Calvert, Texas, and the same goes for the rest of the cast (and crew) of Chocolat.
  
• "For more options there is Hearne, a city about nine miles down the road." Here the phrase "more options" is used very loosely. There might be one or two fast food chains in town, plus a "small-town cafe" where the gravy on my chicken-fried steak once wreaked of household cleaner, but I doubt Hearne's grown big enough for a Walmart.
  
• "The closest big city is College Station, home to the main campus of Texas A&M University, about 45 minutes south." If you're reading this in New York City, you're not going to find a big city by driving to College Station. You could drive another 100 miles to Austin or Houston, but upon arrival, you would continue to wonder where the closest big city is.

27) The Walmart Annual Meeting in Orlando, Florida (2010)

Judging by the midweek exodus at Orlando International Airport, this year's grand corporate gathering featured an informal competition for whose dress shirt most closely approximated the official Walmart blue.

I find the loyalty and asymptotic ambition of Organization Man just as alluring as the next guy, but when it spills over into your closet, that always seems excessive .

26) Starving artists with iPhones

If only man could live off apps alone . . .


I have a hard time believing conspicuous possession of the latest gadgetry inspires much philanthropy; if someone doesn't hurry up and develop an app for cultivating benefactors, a whole generation of art might be in peril.

25) Any magazine displayed on the racks of your local grocery store's checkout aisles

I struggle to find anything other than completely dispiriting messages about the state of our national culture when I review the cover-stories.

24) Mail-order beef wellington

I'm grimacing as we speak. There must be a curse on our household because -- no matter how hard we try -- we can't get this "steakhouse" to stop sending us their monthly catalog full of meats they'd love to ship to us in a box.

23) Prescription-strength eyelash medication.

This should be self-explanatory, but in case it's not, here is some of the gut-wrenching promotional material from the website (http://www.latisse.com/):


"Hypotrichosis is another name for having inadequate or not enough eyelashes.
Great eyelashes don't just happen overnight. That's why it's important to note that LATISSE® (bimatoprost ophthalmic solution) 0.03% works gradually and remarkably — with full results after 12 to 16 weeks. Once you begin treatment, you must continue applying the topical solution each night and follow the directions for best results. Remember results are gradual over time. If you stop using LATISSE®, your eyelashes are expected to return to their previous appearance over several weeks to months. Your eyelashes will experience real measurable growth. LATISSE® works from the inside out. As the treatment progresses, you'll begin to see changes in length, thickness and darkness gradually. After week 16, you'll see the full effect of LATISSE® — and so will others. There are possible side effects. The most common side effects after using LATISSE® solution are an itching sensation in the eyes and/or eye redness. This was reported in approximately 4% of patients. LATISSE® solution may cause other less common side effects which typically occur on the skin close to where LATISSE® is applied, or in the eyes. These include skin darkening, eye irritation, dryness of the eyes, and redness of the eyelids.If you develop a new ocular condition (e.g., trauma or infection), experience a sudden decrease in visual acuity, have ocular surgery, or develop any ocular reactions, particularly conjunctivitis and eyelid reactions, you should immediately seek your physician’s advice concerning the continued use of LATISSE® solution."

22) Multi-grain bread

Don't get me wrong; I'm a fan of the stuff. But everytime I go to the supermarket, the number of grains has multiplied exponentially. It's like the Mach-12 shaving razors people make fun of . . . there's no end to how much they can add in a Sisyphean effort to blow away the competition.

In this case, instead of razor blades, it's 10, 12, sometimes 15-grain baked goods. Eventually, it's going to stop being bread and all we'll be left with is something more like gargantuan granola bars that you have to eat with a pick axe.

21) All things Celtic

It's the surreal overlap of bastardized WASPs and (Druid-wannabe) Wiccans.

But why do 95% of Celtic things always look so cheap? Something tells me you'd be hard-pressed to find any of this junk that's manufactured outside of Asia. I can just imagine the underpaid factory workers looking at the bric-a-brac and wondering, "Who are these people?"

20) Cheetos lip balm

Now if we could only get moist towlettes that have been dusted in orange powder, then the circle would be complete.

In terms of bizarre consumer products, this is second only to the Dasani water flavored lip balm. I've heard Coke adds salt to Dasani to give it flavor, but unless the lip balm stick just tastes salty, I can't imagine what the benefit to water-flavored lip balm is.

I feel incredibly disgruntled just having to write about this.

All this was reported by John Kessler at the Atlanta Journal Constitution.