Soap Opera - 256
Hal Wastes His Wages
May 6, 2008

Recently there has been a fundamental change in my life that has rocked me to the core, one of those situations where you don’t know just how much of an impact it'll make until after the fact. Life certainly has its various stages, and while some are ushered in and out with obvious definition, others sort of come upon you, leaving you to wonder just how you got where you did without even knowing it.

And what exactly was this cataclysmic sea change? I changed my brand of deodorant soap.

As a young lad, I recall being rather fond of brands like Zest or Coast--the Red Bulls of deodorant soap, seemingly laced with amphetamines or whatever form of "linseed balm" BALCO was making available to pro athletes. With this soap you could kick start your day and rock on all night long--even in a "hard water town." Hell, I didn't even need breakfast because Coast's scent opened my eyes or I was Zestfully clean.

Thankfully I came to the conclusion at an early age that the hard and fast lifestyle wasn't for me. I didn't want to burn out from main-lining this heavy duty stuff, so eventually I felt a need to settle it down a little bit. Nevertheless, I still wanted that spring--that Irish Spring. Perhaps I felt a post adolescent yearning to identify with my cultural heritage, or maybe I simply wanted to roll around in a field with a fiery redhead. Either way, the down-home ruggedness supplemented with the wee touch of international flair that Irish Spring brought to the shower caddy really spoke to me. For nearly a decade and a half I had a solid relationship with my deodorant soap of choice--that is until they started going "Xtreme," with deviant lines such as Sport, Icy Blast, Moisture Blast or Micro Clean. To me, my trusty ol' Irish Spring took on an unwholesome alien feel, like when Coke started screwing with its original formula. I was happy enough feeling "clean as a whistle," with no interest in feeling as clean as a Gibson SG Double Neck with whammy bar. It was a slippery slope back toward the Zest/Coast highway, and we'd been down that road before…

So I walked away, and now here I find myself married, with a kid and using Safeguard. That's right, $*@%!^& Safeguard. My grandparents use Safeguard, "a soap for the entire family." This puts me one step away from the bland purity of Ivory, and the only place to go from there is Lifebuoy and coal tar. There's a certain moral responsibility to using a brand like Safeguard. I doubt you'd find many rock stars or stuntmen using the brand, but I suppose that's alright by me. It's a good, clean, wholesome feeling--a shepherd-like feeling of safe guardianship and I'm willing accept the role.

Sure, it's not easy for a reckless man to simply wash his hands of his lifestyle, but when using a soap like Safeguard, the smell of change is in the air.

*******************************************************

Christopher M. Halleron, freelance writer/bitter bartender, writes a biweekly humor column for The Hudson Current and websites in the New York Metro area. He spends a lot of his time either in front of or behind the bar in Hoboken, New Jersey where his tolerance for liquor grows stronger as his tolerance for society is eroded on a daily basis. Feel free to drop him a line at c_halleron@yahoo.com

Christopher M Halleron owns and retains all proprietary rights to the Site and the content provided by the Site. The Site contains material, including links and compilations of individual data, trademarks, and other proprietary information of chrishalleron.com.  Except for that information which is in the public domain or for which you have been given written permission to use, you may not copy, modify, publish, transmit, distribute, perform, display, or sell any such proprietary information.  Any questions or comments, please contact Chris Halleron at chris@chrishalleron.com.

.