As a seven year old I thrilled to every purchase or gift of Tom Swift Jr. books. Now they seem rather quaint with their cheap binding and their faux author, Victor Appleton II. I knew no one else who read them. In a world where I seemed to be no one’s target audience, here were these books that seemed to be expressly made for me.
Just as one plays with anyone at age four and gradually becomes more and more discriminating with age, so too have thrilling new products become fewer and farther between as I have aged. This cycle is as ancient as time. That is why corporations turn their nose up at the elderly. Outside of healthcare there is nothing to sell them. Youth, or at least youthful naivete, is their friend.