It's cheating, I know, but I haven't written much lately.
 

Stanford Application Essay

“Simplify, simplify, simplify,” intoned Thoreau. If you were to follow Thoreau’s advice and scale back your possessions, what would you keep, and why?

For one, I would keep my toothbrush.  

Firstly, I hate morning breath.  I’d say to “multiply, multiply, multiply” toothbrushes so that no one will ever again reek of it.    

Secondly, taking care of teeth just makes sense.  Any one of those tiny advice books you see near the cash register at bookstores will tell you to brush your teeth often.  Then they might even provide helpful reminders, like “your teeth are one of the few parts of your body you keep for your entire life.”  And of course, once you lose your teeth, they can never grow back.  

Thirdly, toothbrushes cannot be shared.  I would never be able to convince my friends to lend me a toothbrush, nor would I want them to (for obvious reasons).  My other dental care products can be spared.  I could probably mooch off my friends a couple swigs of mouthwash, or even a few feet of floss.  So while my other dental care products can be spared, having my own toothbrush is essential.    

But lastly and most importantly, I love my toothbrush.  When it’s time to replace my brush, I always insist that my parents buy the same model for me at the local Asian market.  It comes in assorted colors, but I have had an off-white one for as long as I can remember. At the edge of the handle is a translucent-orange cushiony grip, where it says in Korean, “Ehl-Keeto.”  No one, including my parents, knows what this means. My dad   thinks it is the name of an ancient martial arts expert.  My brother suggests that it is referring to where it might have been made: Quito, the capitol of Ecuador.  The owner of the Asian mart simply said it is a typo the company never bothered to fix.  Whatever the case may be, to me, “Ehl-Keeto” signifies that it is my toothbrush.  I see toothbrushes that come from big companies, like “Oral-B,” that claim to have a secret design that enhances teeth cleaning.   Some brushes have colorful cartoons on them, like Donald Duck, or the Little Engine that Could.  My family owns a couple of those electronic brushes that do almost all of the brushing for you.  But I am convinced that no one has a more exotic or exciting toothbrush than mine.     

I wouldn’t keep my toothbrush just because it has a useful purpose.  Life would certainly be a little more difficult without useful things such as my computer, my school supplies or my refrigerator.  But my most prized possessions are the ones that help create my identity and make me unique – things like the sticker-covered tag on my violin case, my owl alarm clock, or my “Sammy 2000” hat.  They are not simply sentimental mementos.  They remind me to be proud of who I am, and not to be ashamed of being different.   So while my toothbrush may not be straight from Ecuador or be endorsed by a tae-kwon-do legend, I take much pride in the fact that I am the only one with a strangely colored Korean toothbrush with a bad typo.