More Random Thoughts of an Old (Weird) Geezer

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

 

Hand Soap

 

From what I can see, “hand soap” is a relatively simple concept.  I’m visualizing it as a product that is capable of grabbing on to grit and grime and holding it tightly as we use water to rinse the resulting bubbly mess down the drain.  This should not be difficult.  Hell, folks used to use make hand soap from pig fat and ashes (lard and lye) for crying out loud.  Soooo… why is it so difficult to purchase a plain old basic hand soap that will squish fairly easily out of the container and remove the dirt from our little paws?  (The liquidy stuff seems to work best for us at the kitchen sink.)  Have you looked recently at the number of products available on the liquid soap shelves?  Probably, huh?  Holy smokes!  First of all, a whole bunch of it is (drum roll please…) ANTIBACTERIAL!  Now I know there has been a big push on this stuff and the manufacturers are only making what folks want to buy, but give me a frickin break!  Our hides are normally covered with a few gazillion of these little bacteria guys anyway and since most of them seem to be quite comfortable in their nice warm fuzzy condos and mean us no harm, I figure there’s no advantage in disrupting their poker parties or orgies or whatever they have going on.  Besides, our immune system should be able to fairly easily blast away any mischievous scoundrels that may have shown up uninvited.  So nah, I don’t need any of the antibacterial products.  I just want something to take the dirt off!

 

The next problem.  I don’t need a hand soap that smells like anything other than soap.  No, I don’t want a lavender scented liquid.  Peach is out.  Forget the watermelon.  Citrus?  Tropical?  Pomegranate?  Mango?  Vanilla?  Raspberry?  Grapefruit?  Lilac?  No!  No!  No!  I just want something that smells like soap.  Something that will take the dirt off!

 

And no, I don’t need anything with super duper special additives.  No lotions, hand softeners, butter, aloe, honey, conditioners… nothing.  Plain old soap will be just fine, thank you.  And no, I don’t want any specially designed decorator containers.  No floral designs, no “appealing” shapes, no nothing especially when it costs another two bucks just for the “collectible” container.  No!  I just want a boring, nondescript little plastic or glass jar thingy to hold the soap while it’s sitting on the back of the kitchen sink.  I just want something to take the danged dirt off.  Buying hand soap shouldn’t be this difficult.  Maybe it’s just me, huh?

 

 

A Related Thought

 

We have way too many choices of dang near everything as far as I’m concerned.  You name it – toothpaste, shampoo, detergents, hair brushes, cold medication, weed whackers, underwear, pants, pizzas, bread, energy drinks, diet pills, light bulbs, cereal…  We’re outta control.  Yeah, I know.  They make it because we buy it.  We’re silly…

 

 

One More Thing

 

In my college days, I worked in a creamery where we packaged and sold butter and ice cream – and I don’t remember what else.  We packaged the butter in the usual rectangular cubes shoved four at a time into the conventional butter box.  As I remember, we packaged at least four different brands in our little two-man operation.  Four different brands that wound up selling for four different prices.  You know where I’m going with this, don’t you?  Yep, it was all the same butter.  But you could bet that some customers would swear that one brand tasted better than another.  We are silly…

 

 

“First Time” Weird Feelings

 

I’ve mentioned before that I grew up without the convenience of indoor bathroom plumbing.  Can you imagine what it’s like after twelve years of doing what I needed to do in that little building out back near the trees, even thinking about doing the same kind of thing inside our house?  “You want me to do WHAT in there?”  That was a really gross, warped concept.  And yes, I have adapted nicely…

 

 

OK, Where are My Lawn Darts?

 

You know what I’m talking about, right?  The original large plastic dart-shaped thingys with the metal tips that we tossed at ring targets laying on the ground out in the yard.  Where did they go?  Oh yeah, they were banned from sale in the U.S. back in ’88 because a few children –obviously without parental supervision - were killed by them.  Bad, bad darts.  And what about those powerful old cherry bombs – and M-80’s?  Man, they were fun.  Hell, you could blast out tree stumps with those guys.  Oh yeah, they too were banned from sale in the U.S. back around 1966 because a bunch of folks lost fingers and eyes by misusing these cool fireworks.  Bad, bad cherry bombs.  (A note here… present day cherry bombs only have a tiny fraction of the power of the originals.  Hell, you could rip a bean fart with more power than these wimps.)

 

So what’s going on here?  Oh yeah, our government is “protecting” us by banning these “dangerous” products.  How nice.  Maybe someone should tell our governmental representatives that it isn’t possible to legislate against neglect, lack of common sense or downright stupidity.  I wish they’d quit trying!

 

 

Crap!  My soapbox just collapsed – again.  Moving on…

 

 

It’s Amazing

 

I watch a little football from time to time and yes, mainly after NASCAR is done for the season and it never ceases to amaze me how the coaches and announcers are able to so closely track the action on the field.  It seems like they are able to watch all 22 players at once and register and record in their brains exactly what has happened.  They know who blocked who, who ran what patterns and what every defensive player did to protect their turf.  I on the other hand, see 22 different player objects moving around in a bunch of different directions and somewhere is the middle of all that is some guy throwing, catching or carrying the ball.  Sometimes I have a hard time even figuring out who and where that guy is.  I don’t know how those coaches and announcers can do what they do.  It’s amazing…

 

 

Golf

 

In my opinion, golf is a dumb game.  I can’t relate to the thrill of whapping a little ball with a stick so that you can eventually knock it into a hole in the ground.  And yes, I do appreciate the physics, discipline and variables behind the game.  I’ve even played quite a few rounds in my younger years.  Grant you, it did feel good to just be outside and get a little exercise.  Did I care what I shot?  Nah.  As far as I was concerned, it would have been a bunch easier to just pick the ball up off the tee, carry it down to that hole, drop it in and give myself 8 on the scorecard.  It’s a dumb game.

 

 

 

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