Shiny objects are eye-catching. Some shiny objects are people. For whatever reason — looks, talent, ability, gall, shock — we can’t stop looking. The shiny object continually generates spectacle: we keep looking, even believing, the glazed guy!
An American infatuation is the shiny automobile. We are enamored with the sheen of metal on wheels powered by ancient life rolling down Main Street. In this tale, the used car salesman sells America a sparkling vehicle that’s sputtering under the hood. Still, we love its freshly waxed visage, coiffed to perfection! The dazzling vehicle is proffered by an expert in the craft of making the deal feel unreal.
As shady sales go, eight years ago the dealer sold us a shiny gas guzzler. That vehicle sits rusting and ruined on the roadside. But his talents are remarkable; we bought a second auto from the same swindler! Weeks into ownership, still gleaming, the new sled is already displaying functional chaos.
Is buyer’s remorse premature? Doubts about features and inexperienced mechanics revive images of that roadside wreck. And the warranty? The fine print states the seller carries no fault for malfunction (an “immunity clause”), though car wash coupons were provided to maintain the luster. Meanwhile, passengers in the shiny object (sold by a shiny person) are experiencing breathing difficulties due to exhaust leaks.
Interestingly, the shiny dealer says he “knows a guy” who sells electric vehicles, but that guy backs the shiny guy pushing glistening gasoline. This entire tale spurs migraine-fueled flashbacks replete with passenger face masks, but no vaccinations.
Shiny objects aside, don’t forget the price of eggs. Spoiler alert: all prices, including junky cars with glossy facades, will rise.
In this allegory, as in life, there is no deflation, no do-overs, and apparently no end to the attraction of ineffective shiny objects.
Paul Rogers, Logan
