By Jim Hagarty
I bought a new, big, black, plastic garbage can to put out at the street every week. Thirty dollars or so.
Today I noticed, as I was removing a sticker from it, that it has a lifetime warranty. Really? I am 61 now. When I am 91 and the thing falls apart as I drag it out to the curb, will I really contact somebody about it to get my money back? The store I bought it at will probably be gone by then. Maybe even the company that made it.
So how much time am I going to be able to spend by then tracking down the people who promised to replace my garbage can if it breaks? And it will break because plastic left outside eventually becomes brittle and cracks. And with our garbage pickup guys treating it like they were roping a bull at a rodeo, its lifespan will be limited for sure.
So why print “lifetime warranty” on this thing when everyone knows that except for the first few months maybe, those words hold absolutely no meaning? It would have been just as true to have put “free food for the next 50 years” on it.
At least that promise I might try to collect on.