Best if used by...

It’s not as if my life is without headaches, but upon reaching into the bathroom cabinet and noticing my extra-strength pain reliever had expired two years ago, the ache just vanished. I’d stopped living in the uncomfortable moment and laughed out loud, surprising myself by how the passing of time can work like a pacifier. 

The next day, shopping at the market, I discovered a pain reliever sale, so I grabbed a couple bottles, then walked to the cooler, selected a dozen golden eggs and gently nestled them into my basket. Things were going well until I stopped before the checkout to take a peek at the items in my basket. 

I was stunned. Both packages of new and unopened pain-relievers had been stamped “Best if used by December 2024,” in other words, five months ago. Out of curiosity I picked up my egg carton: “Sell By June 1.” That was today. 

I wasn’t laughing anymore. Medical experts assure the public there is little inherent danger in using expired over-the-counter medication, but they also warn that the full effectiveness of these products may be compromised. I guess accountability checks out with the shopper. The supermarket already knows when to stop sitting on its eggs.  

Returning to the pain-relief shelf before paying, I found a more expensive name-brand promising full strength until 2027. I switched them for the discounted goods. As for the eggs, more omelets were on the menu. 

Expiration dates can’t be avoided. Even the word “expired” leaves a dusty taste in the mouth. It impersonates a sledgehammer with a militia of nasty sounding synonyms, like run out, invalid, void, lapsed, ceased, obsolete, ended, finished, stopped, concluded, terminated and worst of all, over. The word possesses the power to diminish any spark of confidence.

The late George Carlin at some point during his performance career surely had been diagnosed with a comedian’s early onset sarcasm condition by some humorless critic. Still, he managed for 71 years to keep us laughing. Living with a history of heart problems, he crossed that great divide seven days after his last performance in Las Vegas. I can still hear him asking this question: “If no one knows when a person is going to die, how can we say he died prematurely?” Expiration dates are just reminders that a timeline doesn’t always run straight or true. 

Inevitably, when encountering my older friends we end up sharing our latest medical evaluations, as if they might be jokes. One friend told me that often, when she arrives for an appointment, receptionists glance at her as if she’s a carton of sour milk after she’s repeated her date of birth. She takes her medicine, but the sweetness of her laughter helps it go down for all of us standing and listening. 

I remember as a teacher when I first introduced Shakespeare’s “masterpieces” to high school students. A majority of my conscripted audience only gasped or groaned as I assigned the reading. 

“Romeo and Juliet” is a good example. My students should love to read the play. There’s so much common ground (and raging hormones) between a modern 14- to 15-year-old and the play’s two teenaged star-crossed lovers, but the play might as well be stamped “obsolete.” It’s not the story – it’s the Elizabethan language that discourages so many students’ appreciation.

Then I had an inspired idea. Why not try a comedy to resolve this staged rebellion? Comedies in general tend to be more popular with audiences due to their lighter themes and humorous elements. There is medical support, however, for the role humor plays in everyone’s health: “One powerful yet often overlooked tool for boosting mental well-being is humor. From reducing stress to enhancing social connections, laughter offers a variety of benefits.”  

If you don’t remember your Shakespeare, I found a measure of the old bard’s language updated and abbreviated by his admirers, who, like Shakespeare, endured the ravages of time, shuffled off their mortal coil and reached their expiration date. Chiseled on one tombstone, “I’ve gone to that place where the IRS can no longer audit me.” And another by a lady named Penny J who opted to use archaic language for her final words:

“Reader, if cash thou art in want of any,

dig four feet deep. Thou wilt find a penny.”  

Graveyard humor is not that common, because graveyards will always be sacred places. The tragic loss of a loved one is commonly accompanied by shock and sorrow, as it should be. But after the hurt has softened, I’ll always be astonished when that unexpected spark of laughter illuminates a painful moment, reminding me that humor is always “Best if Used” before its expiration date.

– David Feela