Yes, technology has lost its damn mind.
The proof is there’s an app you can buy for your phone and it’s called We Croak.
What does it do? It’s supposed to bring you happiness.
And it costs only $0.99.
Right there, I’m not buying. Literally. Because happiness costs at least $3.99. You can’t even get gum for under a buck.
Some people say you can’t buy happiness. They’re wrong. They lack a can-do attitude.
You can try. I myself have spent a lifetime trying to buy happiness, and I’m hoping it will work.
I try harder. Actually, I’m a tryhard.
Daughter Francesca taught me that term, because that’s one of those things the kids are saying nowadays, and I always try to use hip and cool slang, which is proof that I’m a tryhard.
Anyway, to stay on track, the We Croak app is based on the Bhutanese philosophy that says happiness comes from contemplating death five times a day.
Again, I’m not buying.
First, I don’t know where Bhutan is, and I doubt its reliability for life philosophy. For that, I rely on the One above.
The We Croak app will send you five notifications during the day, reminding you that you’re going to die.
I’m not making this up.
But it doesn’t give it to you straight, like a doctor in a hospital.
Remember, it costs only $0.99.
If you want to hear that from a doctor in a hospital, it’ll cost you $29,282,739,494,928,829,303.
Meanwhile, I would tell you for free.
And while we’re on the subject, you’re gonna die.
But We Croak sends you fancy quotes from Molière, who said, “We die only once, and for such a long time.”
And from Marcus Aurelius, who said, “Death smiles at us all, all one can do is smile back.”
You get the idea. Molière and Marcus Aurelius are like Oprah. And Bhutan is using them as death spokespeople.
What’s the theory of the app, anyway?
The idea is that if you’re reminded of your mortality a few times a day, you’ll live in the moment and enjoy your life more.
You could get the same result if you said YOLO to yourself at mealtimes.
But you’d gain 10 pounds.
Though you’d save $0.99, leading to $0.99 more happiness in your life. Depending on how you live, it could put you over the top.
Still, I don’t get the idea.
I might not be smarter than a toothbrush, but I’m smart enough to know that I’m going to die.
If my phone isn’t notifying me, my hip is.
Because it’s hurting more than it did when was younger, sending me messages throughout the day, all of which mean the same thing:
“It’s over, Johnny.”
If you don’t recognize that brilliant life philosophy, it’s from the movie Rambo.
See, I can be intellectual, too.
Plus I have wrinkles, and they remind me I’m going to die every time I look in a mirror.
I should develop an app called We Crack.
Anyway, I don’t think We Croak would help me enjoy my life more.
It’s just nagging. Who would pay somebody to nag them? Not this girl.
Anyway, what’s next?
Maybe an app called You Could Get Cancer. It could remind you five times a day that you could get cancer.
But the theory is the same: reminding you that you could get cancer, so you can be happy that you don’t have cancer.
I wouldn’t buy that, either.
In fact, I would pay somebody $0.99 to never remind me that I could get cancer. Because I worry all the time about getting cancer.
It would be awkward if the app reminded somebody they could get cancer but they already had cancer.
Now that’s dark.
Which only goes to prove that We Croak is a really lousy idea.
By the way, We Croak sends you death notifications only between 7 a.m. and 10 p.m. So at least the app won’t wake you up to tell you that you’re gonna die.
Imagine that call: “Hello, and goodbye!”
Also, given the odds, that’s most likely the time you’ll actually be dying.
Now I lay me down to — d’oh!
I always wanted to die in my sleep, but if I had the app, I wouldn’t be able to.
I bet I’d be dying and right then I’d get a notification that I’m going to die.
I hope I have time to text back:
Look for Lisa and Francesca’s new humor collection, “I Need a Lifeguard Everywhere But the Pool,” and Lisa’s new Rosato & DiNunzio novel, “Exposed,” in stores now. Also look for Lisa’s new domestic thriller, “After Anna,” coming April 10. email@example.com.