Exploring more senses
I’m back with more insight into my spiral into insanity. I’m sure people are starting to wonder about me due to my obsession with bathroom humor and germs. Well, not to disappoint, I’m going to combine those subjects and talk about some situations we all face. Rather than being crazy, I like to think of myself of an everyman’s hero. I explore the “sensitive” issues one would not dare bring up in public. Therefore, you are welcome.
I chew gum incessantly. So much so that I have developed jaws of such musculature that I can chew even the hardest crusts at Beyond Bread with only relative discomfort. I do it primarily for the breath-masking qualities of gum. I think of it as doing a favor for those around me who, as an alternative, would be gaced with sniffing the remnants of my spaghetti and broccoli dinner. (those of you who regularly read my musings know that the last sentence was hypothetical as it involved me eating a vegetable – regardless, the point is gum smells better than stinky food).
However, I have recently started questioning how big of a favor I am actually doing after I recently whiffed another person’s gum aroma. It made me realize that, much like the rotten egg smell added to natural gas alerts you to the presence of dangerous fumes, the gum smell is only serving to confirm my suspicions that I am inhaling air that was residing in the prson’s lung no more than 3 seconds ago! How gros is that? Answer: very.
So what is one to do in that situation? Well, I’ll tell you. Just like your options upon entering a stinky public restroom, you can do one of two things: breathe through your mouth or breathe through your nose (technically you can also hold your breath, but by the time you realize it stinks enough o hold your breath, you are only providing a warm, moist, safe haven for the stank molecules to harvest in your lungs). So which option is best? Lucky for you, I have comprehensively broken down your options and provided advantages and disadvantages of each option:
Option 1: Nose
Advantages: Nasal hairs and additional travel length will filter some nasty particles (or nasticles as I like to refer to them).
Disadvantages: Smell sensors allow you to smell exactly what you are breathing.
Option 2: Mouth
Advantages: Lack of smell receptors on tongue allow for the false assurance that you are not breathing in nasticles.
Disadvantages: Unobstructed entry for nasticles into your body. Must pass over (and probably on) to your tongue.
Actually, there is an option 3. You can “release” a masking odor of your own to cover the original odors.
Advantages: Attempted quote from Austin Powers: “everyone likes the smell of their own brand.”
Disadvantages: Embarrassment that arises if anyone hears you. Potentially dragging the smell with you on your clothes.
Which option is best? Well, I’ll leave that to you. But, in case you plan on testing my hypotheses in the nearest public restroom, allow me to provide you with some reading material:
That article really made me glad I didn’t become an astronaut. As if the thought of riding a solid rocket hundreds of miles up into the vacuum of space didn’t scare me enough, I didn’t realize relieveing oneself involved such close proximity to fan-propelled jets or frozen urine icicles.
While the article is ripe with comments and quotes just begging for discussion, I will just mention my favorite quote. It comes in the last paragraph and is from a former astronaut talking about a time on a mission that mission managers “shut down the urine collection system” on the space shuttle: “It was, he said, an annoyance, but ‘it’s one of those camping-trip kind of things you have to adjust to.’ Set against the larger risks and grandeur of space travel, he said, ‘this is small potatoes.’”
Not to argue with a former astronaut, but how is using plastic bags on a space shuttle like camping at all? Are there trees on the shuttle? Do you have to bring a whistle in case you stumble upon a bear? I guess that at the very least I’ve learned one thing: don’t camp with former astronauts.
Oh well, that’s enough discussion of bathroom-related topics for one blog. It’s time to drop some potatoes in the can…if you know what I am saying. What? I meant we have some potatoes that have expired and need to be thrown away. What?
Earthquake!!!
The other day I was surfing the net and happened to stumble across the article found at the following link: http://apnews.myway.com/article/20080521/D90Q9RQ81.html
(Random digression: can one really “stumble” while “surfing”? I submit that one cannot. The correct terminology for happening across something on the internet should be “wiped out”.) I will give you a moment to read the article…
Ok, now that you have comprehensively analyzed the article, let me tell you my first reaction: Oh…my…goodness! A team of 300 scientists?! Talk about a nerd convention!
All kidding aside, my second reaction was: cracked sewer pipes?! That sounds like the worst reason to visit a proctologist. Don’t they make inflatable pillows and creams for that type of thing?
Ok, now that ALL the kidding is aside, my third reaction was: I hate earthquakes. This article only reinforced the fear I have of California. I have no idea why anyone chooses to live there (no disrespect to my sister and brother-in-law who live there of course, they are just insane). Moving to California seems like moving to a house in Kansas with a tornado shelter. The fact that there is a tornado shelter means there is an excellent chance of a TORNADO!! That’s like ordering a meal at a restaurant that comes with a side of a barf bag. There are reasons that California’s building codes require specific earthquake mitigation features. That’s because there are deadly earthquakes! And if 300 scientists don’t convince you, I offer this nugget of proof. I recently asked my Magic 8 ball if California would experience a catastrophic earthquake within the next 50 years. Let me tell you, the answer was not encouraging…which in itself is bizarre since usually the answer is something like “Go for it”, or “ask again later.”
Unfortunately, nearly every vacation I have ever taken has been to California (not that California is not excellent, it’s just scary). As a matter of fact, my next vacation happens to be to California. The most time I have ever spent in California at one time has been a week. And let me tell you, the whole time I felt as if I was cheating death. In fact, I refer to everything tall in California as the (entity)-of-death. For example, the Ferris wheel at Disney’s California Adventure is definitely the Ferris-wheel-of-death as a large tremor would surely send the structure crashing into the artificial lake beside it. But, I would also consider the lemonade stand next to the wheel as the concession-stand-of-death as a large earthquake could send the structure crashing down upon me, were I standing next to it.
At least California has the ocean going for it though. In the event of an earthquake, there is a good chance of drowning in an earthquake-induced tsunami. I suppose the odds of me being severely injured in an earthquakeal tragedy are in my favor as I am only over there for one week a year on average. You’d never catch me living there though.
I live in Tucson Arizona because I happen to be a logical, conservative home-area chooser. And by logical I mean “I was”, and by conservative I mean “born here”. Here, the only natural danger is a known entity: heat. I find that danger is easy to mitigate: stay inside, drink tons of water, and buy extra deodorant. And, for those rare occasions that I venture into California, I will just have to find an aesthetic looking helmet that will be comfortable to wear for a week.
Restaurants
Recently I’ve found myself eating out far more than I should. While more expensive than eating at home, I have been unable to resist the convenience, service, and tastiness of restaurants. My experiences over the past few weeks have given me some ideas that I would incorporate in a restaurant, were I ever to open one. I think the combination of these items, and some delicious food would lead to the world’s most bestest restaurant.
Waiters would be required to have a notepad….and use it
I know that many people complain about waiters and waitresses who commit orders to memory, but they are becoming a pet peeve to me (not the people who complain, the waiters and waitresses themselves). I think this is because I have a ‘special’ request that goes along with 90% of my orders: ranch dressing. That alone probably makes me the pet peeve for waiters and waitresses, but I am also ‘voluntarily’ tipping them 20%. I think a side of salad dressing for French fry dipping is a fair exchange. I find that waiters and waitresses (since I am getting tired of typing this out, I will refer to them as waiteresses from here on) who attempt to impress me with their short-term memory capacity remember my ranch approximately 50% of the time, which frustrates me 100% of the time.
Unfortunately, this is turning out to be much more of a gripe session that originally intended, but I have never met anyone who prefers that their waiteress not write their order down. Perhaps this practice is some sort of waiteress right of passage. Regardless, I am almost to the point of writing my order down myself. Or even better, maybe instead of writing the tip on the bill, I should just remember it in my head. My waiteress would no doubt appreciate that demonstration of short-term memory capacity.
Fine dining without a jacket
I like eating at classy dining establishments (or ‘joints’) as much as the next guy. However, I don’t like feeling obligated to dress up. I want to be comfortable. For this reason, my restaurant would be very casual…for the guests. In order to create an air of elegance, the waiteresses would be dressed up nicely (I wouldn’t go so far as a tuxedo, that would be impractical. Rather, I think I’d require pants, a jacket, a bowtie and a cummerbund) and would refer to the guests and ‘sir’ and ‘mademoiselle’. The class would not stop there either. Rather than telling guests at the end of their meal, “here is your bill”, they would say, “sir, mademoiselle, I hope you enjoyed your meal…the one I wrote down…here is your William. I’ll be your cashier when you are ready.” I think that approach would make my restaurant unique…ly great!
Vegetables outlawed
Now I realize vegetables are an important part of a balanced diet, but they’ve become the MSG of meal sides. When I go out to dinner, I go out for a tasty meal. That automatically excludes vegetables. I always feel obligated to eat them though since I am paying for them and I still subconsciously feel like I’d have to eat them for breakfast if I didn’t eat them for dinner (thanks mom). I’d much rather avoid paying 25% of my meal for summer squash and get my carrots at home. No matter how they are cooked, vegetables do nothing more than take up room on my plate or (rarely) in my stomach. Therefore, sides at my restaurant would be limited to breads and any reasonable preparation of a potato.
Booths only
This feature at my restaurant may require some unique floor planning, but would make for a much more enjoyable experience. Whenever I get the choice, I prefer by far to sit in a booth. Sitting at a table…out in the middle of the room…with everyone around just makes me feel so vulnerable. It seems like everyone in my proximity is listening to the intimate conversations I am trying to have with my family (usually it’s something like this: “I bet they’ll forget my ranch.”).
And speaking of booths, every booth would have a sink stocked with soap (refer to previous germ blog). No more excusing myself before every meal to visit the bathroom. I would be able to sanitize my hands and the hands of my children without anybody wondering about the size of my bladder.
Oh well, maybe someday Mr. McMahon, or heck, even Mr. McDonald will figure out that these things would improve the average dining experience immensely. In the meantime, I will have to continue working on nice ways to ask again for the ranch I ordered without motivating waiteresses to provide that ranch with some extra saliva.