If you are reading this column looking for something new, I'll have to disappoint you.

It's not a new column. The words are not new. The concept of a column is not new. The theme of the column is not new, but rather an idea I borrowed from the 60 Minutes curmudgeon and humourist Andy Rooney, who at age 89 is light years removed from anything new.

I received an unwanted "new" item this week … a credit card from MasterCard that replaced my Hudson's Bay Company credit card.

I always took a bit of pride in the fact that The Bay was all ours and intricately knotted to the history of Canada. Founded in 1670, the firm celebrates its 338th anniversary on May 2.

However, it was sold to an American billionaire financier a couple of years ago and that has led to the replacement of the gold credit card embossed with the company's historic seal, with just another routine credit card containing the HBC logo. I feel something "old" has been lost forever.

The other morning, I noticed the label on my can of shaving gel. "New", it said.
I wondered what was new about the blue goo called Hydra Gel. Sounds like something excreted by the multi-headed dragon that guarded the golden fleece sought by Jason and the Argonauts. And it smells like it might be the lubricating fluid GM put in the Hydramatic transmission of its 1940 Cadillac.

What do I care? It does the job and the label says it's "new."

I admit to being a sucker for things that are new … or at least claim to be new.

My deodorant container says it's "new" too. I'm not sure what's new about it, but perhaps it's the scent called Marine. My pits now give off a "new" seashore smell.

I have trouble walking past an item in the supermarket that sports "new" on the label. I tried it the other day.

The store offers dozens of items that claim to be "new". I spotted something called Skintimate, a shaving gel for women. Who could resist something “new” that comes in a pink can?

“New” personal grooming products seem to pop up all the time. Does that mean the "old" products were never any good?

There are at least three "new" toothpastes on the shelf, including one that claims to be good for night use. Do we really need a "new" toothpaste to use only before bed?

An extremely popular brand of dandruff shampoo is marketing itself as new. New what? I checked the active ingredients. They're not new.

I had to take a second look when I saw the "new" label on a bottle of spring water. It's water, one of the first things God created, if Genesis is accurate. Not new. A closer read showed that the newness was in the container, advertised as "more convenient."

I found a jar of chip dip with a "new" flavour, sweet and spicy Thai. I passed on that, way too new for me.

A bag of dog kibble sported a "new" label. Tastier recipe dogs love, it said. Dogs can't read and they probably don't care if the chow is new. Cats, on the other hand, can likely read War and Peace, but turn their noses up at anything new.

And if you can't teach old dogs new tricks, what makes you think you can convince them to eat new food?

Sunlight laundry soap has a "new" formula. Makes me wonder what was wrong with the old formula that I presume has been around since the 1890s when Sunlight came on the market.

Fruit juices carry "new" labels to notify you that cranberry-pomegranate juice is a newfangled concoction and hence, something you can't resist. But does it mix well with vodka?

Apple and cinnamon instant oatmeal boxes brag of a "new" taste. It's apples … and cinnamon … and oatmeal. What’s “new” about that?

On this shopping excursion, I spotted the last of the "new" products in the freezer aisle. Three tubs of ice cream carried "new" labels inside starbursts – Bubbilicious, Brownie Mud Pie and Fried Ice Cream, none of which tempted my taste buds enough to give them a try.

Being a guy, I came away with only one "new" item on this day. You guessed it, barbecue sauce. Who can resist something called "new" steakhouse flavour?

My suggestion for all supermarkets will go nowhere, but I offer it nevertheless. Place all the so-called "new" items in one aisle, thereby cutting my shopping time in half and helping me focus on the important things in life, like where to find that "new" golf club.