Hometown Discount
May. 16th, 2008 03:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfieldLast weekend I was in the drug store, shopping for saline solution for my contact lenses. When I first started wearing contact lenses back in high school, the cleaning and disinfecting procedure necessitated an array of different solutions, substances and assorted gizmos. Every night I had to rub the lenses with daily cleaner, then rinse them off with saline, then place them in this contraption with a chemical catalyst on it, then soak the contraption in a separate disinfecting solution, and once a week I had to put this little tiny pill in the disinfectant to prevent protein accumulation. I distinctly remember doing less work in my chemistry lab.
All of those products were manufactured by CIBA Vision and the strict regimentation of the cleaning process enforced an fierce sense of brand loyalty. My eyesight was embarassingly poor as it was; I did not want to haphazardly substitute a foreign substance and wind up as the only kid in school with an eyepatch. (Although, looking back on it now, being "eyepatch guy" would have been pretty cool, aside from the obvious pirate jokes. "Avast ye matey? There's no comeback for that.")
Anyway, the mid-1990s brought advances in both contact lenses and cleaning technology and I was finally able to throw away most of that "equipment." The process was still involved two solutions and rubbing and rinsing, but it was a major improvement. Also, I was finally able to choose my own brand of solution, and it was an easy choice: Bauch & Lomb was not only one of the leaders in the contact lens product market, but it was a company local to my home city of Rochester, NY. They had even endowed the science academic building at my alma mater, the University of Rochester.
In the late 90s and early aughts, B&L even came out with affordable short-term contact lenses (replaceable every two to four weeks) and a "no-rub" solution, which shaved even more time off of my lens-cleaning regimen. It was at this point that taking out my contacts officially became faster than brushing my teeth.
Life went blissfully on like that for quite a while. But then about a year ago I developed both a slight astigmatism and an allergic reaction to my current contacts and was forced to switch to a new kind of contact lens entirely. These contact lenses require an altogether different kind of daily solution -- a variety that Bausch & Lomb does not produce.
So now I feel a little guilty every time I go into a drug store and pass up the B&L stuff for the stuff made in Texas by a company from Switzerland. Luckily for me, I still use saline solution separately from my cleaning solution -- and saline solution is pretty much saline solution, no matter whose logo is on the box -- I can still buy B&L saline.
But, under this same principle of "saline is saline," my devotion to B&L is in direct conflict with my general enthusiasm for cheap, generic brands. The Harris Teeter Top Care Labs (or whatever it's called) version of saline solution was selling for $2.79 while the B&L stuff was selling for $3.99. The $1.20 markup is significant given the infinitesimal difference between the two products. How much is it worth to support one's hometown? And is that on a gross or per-ounce basis?
Ultimately I ended up going with the Rochester connection, though I must admit that it didn't give me the pure joy that it used to. If my contacts weren't so damn comfortable and well-hydrated, I might even cry.
All of those products were manufactured by CIBA Vision and the strict regimentation of the cleaning process enforced an fierce sense of brand loyalty. My eyesight was embarassingly poor as it was; I did not want to haphazardly substitute a foreign substance and wind up as the only kid in school with an eyepatch. (Although, looking back on it now, being "eyepatch guy" would have been pretty cool, aside from the obvious pirate jokes. "Avast ye matey? There's no comeback for that.")
Anyway, the mid-1990s brought advances in both contact lenses and cleaning technology and I was finally able to throw away most of that "equipment." The process was still involved two solutions and rubbing and rinsing, but it was a major improvement. Also, I was finally able to choose my own brand of solution, and it was an easy choice: Bauch & Lomb was not only one of the leaders in the contact lens product market, but it was a company local to my home city of Rochester, NY. They had even endowed the science academic building at my alma mater, the University of Rochester.
In the late 90s and early aughts, B&L even came out with affordable short-term contact lenses (replaceable every two to four weeks) and a "no-rub" solution, which shaved even more time off of my lens-cleaning regimen. It was at this point that taking out my contacts officially became faster than brushing my teeth.
Life went blissfully on like that for quite a while. But then about a year ago I developed both a slight astigmatism and an allergic reaction to my current contacts and was forced to switch to a new kind of contact lens entirely. These contact lenses require an altogether different kind of daily solution -- a variety that Bausch & Lomb does not produce.
So now I feel a little guilty every time I go into a drug store and pass up the B&L stuff for the stuff made in Texas by a company from Switzerland. Luckily for me, I still use saline solution separately from my cleaning solution -- and saline solution is pretty much saline solution, no matter whose logo is on the box -- I can still buy B&L saline.
But, under this same principle of "saline is saline," my devotion to B&L is in direct conflict with my general enthusiasm for cheap, generic brands. The Harris Teeter Top Care Labs (or whatever it's called) version of saline solution was selling for $2.79 while the B&L stuff was selling for $3.99. The $1.20 markup is significant given the infinitesimal difference between the two products. How much is it worth to support one's hometown? And is that on a gross or per-ounce basis?
Ultimately I ended up going with the Rochester connection, though I must admit that it didn't give me the pure joy that it used to. If my contacts weren't so damn comfortable and well-hydrated, I might even cry.
