Requiem

Well, it finally happened.  After just under six decades of faithful service, I finally used the very last one of these:

Now, for New or else Forgetful Readers [Alzheimer’s joke deleted], I discussed this problem in some, possibly lamentable detail back here, so I’m not going to rehash the whole sorry tale of Procter & Gamble’s corporate fuckwittery all over again.

Nope.  I have swallowed all that rage, and decided to Move On.

So I tried this variant of NEW Old Spice, because at first sniff, it actually wasn’t that bad — almost (but not quite) as good as the original:

I used it for a few days, but then discovered that while its fragrance isn’t bad, the texture of the deodorant — a sort of stiff paste — is awful.  In fact, after a day of wearing the stuff, the next morning’s shower just about requires the use of a Brillo pad to remove the stuff from the old pits, in that it hardens like some kind of ghastly semi-concrete.  It’s not a chemical anti-perspirant (which I never use), but I have to feel that the sticky residue performs exactly the same function, simply by clogging up your pores.  Sorry, but that just can’t be healthy.

So into the trash it went, leaving me with the same task of finding a decent replacement for my Old Spice Classic Fresh.  (Did I mention already how long I’ve been using said deodorant?  I did?  Yeah, sixty-odd years, without a break, just in case you missed it.)

It seems that most modern deodorants are aimed at girlymen or the LGBTOSTFU Set [some overlap], both in terms of their marketing and their perfume.  Needless to say, I am not one of these people.

Thus it was that in my hour of desperation, I happened upon an oldie:

Good grief:  do they even still make this stuff?  I remember my Dad using the aftershave lotion manifestation, and I was astonished to find the brand was still around.  And it doesn’t smell bad, either.  When polled, New Wife found it not objectionable, which is factor #2 in its acceptance.  Finally, it’s of the same consistency as the traditional roll-on (like Classic Fresh) and doesn’t require a Dremel tool for its removal in the shower.

Clearly, someone at whoever makes English Leather has not made the P&G mistake, and realized that brand loyalty — long-term brand loyalty — should not just be summarily discarded in favor of some New Thing, and kept it going.  I hope.

Of course when it comes to business like this, there’s always going to be a fly in the ointment, and therefore it should come as no surprise that the English Leather roll-on deodorant costs nearly three times as much as my Old Faithful.  Which I’m just going to have to endure, maybe at the expense of cutting out one range trip a month so as to afford the damn stuff.  (I should at this point acknowledge that had the price of Classic Fresh gone up by a similar amount, I would probably have paid the premium — grudgingly, but nevertheless — and continued to use it.  So suck on that factoid, you P&G shitforbrains.)

All these ripples came about because some cocksucker [sic]  in Marketing / Accounting / Advertising at Procter & Gamble made a decision to end a product that has had a loyal following for many decades, no doubt simply so they can free up the production line for the latest in gayboy scents which will in all likelihood have few long-term customers because that type always goes after the New Thing, and stupid companies like Procter & Fucking Gamble are doomed to follow these tits around in the vain hope that one day these new customers might actually stick with one product variant — kind of like the customers for the Classic Fresh used to do for decades at a time.

I hope that the Old Spice division at P&G goes out of business soon.  That, or whoever signed off on the discontinuation of Classic Fresh dies of an unspeakably painful disease, along with his/her entire family.