It Seemed Like A Great Idea At The Time…

According to Reuters, a company in California (where else would it be) that cloned family pets has closed its doors. The company’s name (and I swear on everything holy that I am not making this up) was named Genetic Savings and Clone. No, really. The Reuters story said that the company had only cloned two cats while in business and charged $50,000 to do so.

This is just a thought here, but if you were paying that much money to clone a pet because you were either so attached to it…. or…I don’t know…CRAZY, wouldn’t you feel better spending that type of dough on a firm with a little more scientific sounding name? I’m thinking of a name like Clone Technologies, Inc. or Genetic Reproductions; something with a little credence to it rather than sounding like something from Saturday Night Live.

That being stated however, assigning a clever name to a pet cloning company would make an ad agency’s creative team salivate. I can imagine names like Double Trouble, Clones-R-Us, You Bring ‘Em, We Clone ‘Em. Well, you get the point. At the end of the day, I guess the name was irrelevant since the company was only given business by two people in their few years of existence. That’s not an overwhelming vote of confidence.

I know that there are a lot of moral, ethical and religious issues with cloning, but if I had $50 grand to throw away, I’d throw it away on myself instead of the family pet. I would also throw out my caution, better judgment and taste so I could clone myself. It seems like something from a bad sitcom (we could call it All of Me and the theme song would be the Sinatra tune by the same name), but when you stop to really think it out, it’s not a bad idea.

It hit me while I was sitting in small claims court this morning representing the large company I work for that there are things we all hate doing, like work. By having ourselves cloned, it would be like taking an early retirement. We can just send our clone to do whatever we don’t want to. Unless I am getting honored or they’re celebrating my birthday, I’d send my clone to work while I go out and enjoy myself. Dinner at the in-laws next week? Yep, clone time. Let’s say you get caught speeding tomorrow. Who would you rather send to traffic school, yourself or your clone?

Have you always wanted to skydive but were too afraid? Send your clone. It’s a win-win situation because if your clone survives and says there’s nothing to it then you are safe to try it yourself. If your clone doesn’t make it or thinks you’d be too scared, at least you’ve got the photos of your clone skydiving that you can use to brag. Think about that obnoxious neighbor down the street who throws the holiday party every winter that you feel you have to attend, even though you can’t stand him. That’s the perfect time to send your clone in place of you, especially if he serves turkey burgers and soy eggnog again this year.

There are some finer details that need to be worked out (like staring your clone in the face without losing your sanity), but I wouldn’t mind having myself cloned. I’m not so sure my wife would agree, so I’ll probably have to put my exact replica up in an apartment across town and provide him with a portion of my income like he’s a ‘kept’ clone. I just hope my wife doesn’t find out. Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if she found out about the apartment and money and accused me of cheating? I’d look pretty pathetic when it’s discovered that I’m not hiding another woman, but my exact clone. Although, if it means retirement at the age of 32, I’d say it’s well worth the risk.