Impermanent

Things disappear.  Your favorite things included.  Ever walk into your favorite grocery store to pick up a box of or a package of or a few of something you often buy only to discover it isn't being made anymore?  Sure, haven't we all.  But it does seem to me that lately this is a more common occurrence.
I've lost my favorite brands of mayonnaise, energy bar, crackers, and frozen yogurt.  And that's only the tip of the iceberg that seems to be melting ever faster.
It's not just food.  I'm finding that brands of clothing, restaurants, and even soap have come up missing.
I know this happens all the time, but something else is going on here, I fear.  In fact, I once wrote to the manufacturer of a popular hair shampoo because, without notice, it disappeared only to be replaced by a different looking and smelling product under the same name.  All in vain, of course.  I did receive a response, but it only reassured me that they knew what they were doing based on some sort of product research and user poll.  I doubt it.
After seeing a news story the other day about the capability of the Chinese government to track and identify their millions with face recognition technology. I'm suddenly thankful not to have lost my privacy...entirely.

If that's what the future holds for all of us, and rest assured it is, I've found another reason to be thankful that I won't be around for the next century.  That is, of course, if the planet survives the sea level and movement of entire populations to higher ground.
This last week we saw the last of another icon from the automobile world: the Volkswagen Bug.  It was announced that the last one has rolled off the assembly line in Mexico.  Even with the modifications made over the years, the ever-popular Bug looked like it just might stand the test of time.  But no.  We must be content to be left with our stories and memories of the car that could run all week on a dollar's worth of gas.  I, of course can add to my recollections of my first car, a black 1959 VW bug, that it didn't even have a gas gauge.  That's right, you had to keep a ruler in the trunk...a trunk that was in the front under the hood because the engine was in the rear.  I distinctly remember measuring the fuel level by inches.  You had to be careful not to drop the ruler in the tank too!  Time to sing another round of "All these impermanent things." Hope we can still find the lyrics.