I had a dream last night in which I pitched a new product called Cool Cubes to my college marketing class. I’ve been out of college for quite some time now, and I think that a dream about hocking product to a bunch of classmates means the dream part of my brain is mad at me right now. Nonetheless, it was memorable for me to want to write some of it down and analyze it here.First, I’ll talk about Cool Cubes. I guess this was some sort of individually-wrapped ice cube product made mostly of water and laced with special chemicals. I guess they were meant to be stored in the freezer until used, but like many parts of a dream, the necessary details for a translation into reality were simply missing. The chemical blend in Cool Cubes functioned similarly to the chemicals in aerosol antiperspirant. You add one or more Cool Cubes to a beverage of your choice and it will prevent you from sweating even on the hottest days. I guess I would have marketed this to people who fall for other vanity racket products, such as diet pills for the quick “beach body” and what have you. Perhaps vanity is the market for people who like alliterative products and prefer compromising their body’s internal cooling systems in order to avoid icky sweat. Let’s just say there’s a reason I’m blogging about my “new product” here and not running down to the patent office.
In a way, I’m pleased that dreams don’t often concern themselves with rationale and other pesky details that would make real world applications impossible. However, it does leave my real world, critical mind alone in the morning to pick up the pieces of what I just dreamed. A rational me would never market something individually-wrapped. Why would the planet need to suffer the indignities of me creating so much waste just to hock a gimmicky product? It’s like the Keurig K-cups debacle all over again. Yes, that’s the first rationale conflict that comes to my waking mind.
What about the no-sweat chemicals? I can only imagine the liquid cancer I was putting into those Cool Cubes in order to trick human physiology into not sweating. I think those aerosol antiperspirants are made from aluminum or some heavy metal that would probably cause instant toxemia if ingested via designer ice cube. Funny enough, I do think some people out there are dumb and vain enough to pay a premium for ice cubes, provided they can somehow show it off to friends and social media for their own futile grasps at external validation. If not, just add something unknown and addictive to the chemical cocktail to make those ice cubes a daily habit for your customers. Think I’m kidding? Two words: Dunkin Donuts.
Lastly, I do enjoy the irony with which my dream never concerned itself. Something called “Cool Cubes” sounds like its primary purpose is to keep you cool. Effectively, it inhibits your ability to sweat, which is precisely the tool your body has to keep cool. All things considered, this product is so wrong it’s probably so right. If that’s the case, please go ahead and steal this idea, but I insist you give me no credit or mention for it whatsoever. I don’t want to be implicated in something so asinine. Ok, good talk, thanks.