Spray Away

Hello, it’s me, the year 2020.

Upon hearing my name, I imagine you had two contradictory thoughts at once. The first: “Oh yes, 2020, last year.” And the second: “Oh yes, 2020, that long ago age that time has forged into legend. Was I even born then?”

And this is natural, for I contain multitudes. I am both ancient history and still happening. Against all odds, I’ve outlived the five years that followed me, and I will likely outlive this one too. Sure, I technically ended as the clock struck midnight, and December 30th, 2020 became January 1st, 2021. And yet, like the villain at the end of a horror movie, my death can easily be retconned out for sequels.

Now, here is the thing: among those who seek fame, there are two types. The first desires it on their terms. They want to be famous for “the right thing,” whether it be music, literature, commentary, you name it. But the second group? They’re far less picky. They may start out with dreams of making artistic yet accessible independent films, but if they end up hosting a bi-weekly three-hour podcast about using a vegan diet to achieve crypto-trading success, so be it. As long as they have an audience, any audience, they’re happy.

I fall into this second category. I care only that you think of me, not that you think of me fondly. Moreover, like the hypothetical podcaster I’ve just invented, I have some products to push.

How can you tell when something was rushed to market in (or in response to) me, 2020? Well, for starters, they likely feature a video ad or marketing copy that contains at least one instance of the phrase, “in these uncertain times.” Furthermore, they make vague promises concerning their abilities to reduce or eradicate bacteria and viruses.

But unlike much of the snake oil that has resulted in response to my brief yet ongoing reign, ozone sprayers like this actually seem to do something.

From an article in New York Magazine’s The Strategist:

[Microbiologist Heidi Wilcox] notes that “ozone in the gaseous form is very toxic to humans,” but when it is infused in water, [Environmental consultant, Brian] Oram explains it becomes aqueous ozone, a safe and “strong oxidizing agent that reacts with organisms and basically destroys them by damaging their internal structures and cell walls.”

Oram went on to say that “aqueous ozone can break down a large array of bacteria, viruses, and protozoan, including E. coli and salmonella, in addition to odors and soil molecules” and that it’s by no means new technology, having been “used to sanitize drinking water for more than 100 years.”

Thus, the claims products like this make are not preposterous. What is preposterous is the price. The one discussed in that article (which is from, you guessed it, me, 2020) would’ve run you about $200. This cheaper version from Homemedics still retails for $75 on their site. Luckily, my friends at Meh can get you one for $15 or two for $20.

Although maybe I shouldn’t say “acquaintances.” After all, nobody wants to be known as a friend of 2020.

Anyway, that’s all for now. Go ahead and get yourself one (or two) of these cleaners. Just a word to the wise: don’t try to use them on me. Because nothing will ever wash my legacy away. Deep down, you know I’ll always be with you.