I am brand-loyal. For me, it’s always been Duke’s Mayonnaise, Grey Poupon Mustard, Campbell’s Tomato Soup, Velveeta Cheese. I don’t even have to think about it. The Mister, well….not so much. He’ll go for the generic every time. Says it saves some money. That there’s no difference. But I know there’s a difference. And no one can tell me otherwise.
When you’re loyal to a brand, you expect your brand to be loyal to you. To respect those years of togetherness. To honor the joys of co-dependency and co-existence.
So when that trust goes awry, there’s deep disappointment.
Such was the case when I recently opened…..and I use that word loosely….my new roll of Glad Cling Wrap.
They changed the packaging and the new “how to open” directions were in a print too-small-to-read. The next bad came when I tried to start the roll. Always a challenge but they messed with that, too. Fingernails and magnifying glasses helped. But the worst was yet to come.
The Glad people have apparently taken the term “Cling” to a whole new level. The new-and-improved product has developed a monastic, sybaritic relationship with itself. It only shakes its own hand. Only serves its own master. Which is to say it clings only unto itself. With itself. And all by itself. With nary a thought to its intended purpose.
I’m going to have to turn-tail and switch to another brand. I regret that. But if it goes badly, there’s always waxed paper and rubber bands. Our mothers, and theirs before them, got along with that just fine. So can we.