Ruminations

The New Year on January 1 is really nothing like the Jewish New Year, which invites a rather brutal introspection, but it still makes one introspective. For example, some people think about how they will improve their lives by dieting and exercising. Others come up with other New Year's resolutions. But there's nothing that will make a blogger introspective like staring at his blog and realizing that the only post of the year has to do with vaginas.

And the question I'm asking myself this morning is: Huh?

The answer to that question has several parts. I don't write about my life, because it's not interesting. I don't write (much) about politics, because my opinions aren't interesting. I don't engage in repartee with other bloggers, because what I would say isn't interesting. To be fair to myself, there are other reasons for that, like the fact that when you lack social skills, it makes interacting with other bloggers somewhat difficult. So, by process of elimination (fill in scatalogical joke here), I find myself writing about things that are way up the immaturity scale on the Pillage Idiot Advisory System (see top of sidebar).

So I think that's why I have the urge right about now to write about this medical product: Flents first aid cots.


A package of them is sitting on the side of our bathroom sink at this moment. When people cut or burn their fingers and don't want to expose the injury to water or other elements, they can roll on one of these "cots" as protection. Now, even my wife, who has a clean mind, has pointed out these things look like a small version of, uh, party balloons. The box comes with assorted sizes, but even the large ones, presumably for your thumb, aren't very large. So you -- you personally -- would need a "super humongous" size. Makes you feel good, huh?

Now, I had a vague sense of foreboding while I was writing this that the story would lead where it has inevitably led. Here: I moved here to take a job in Washington in 1987, which is when I heard someone repeat a joke he had heard from a friend, who absolutely swore he was present when President Reagan told it to Vice President Bush. I can't verify all of that, but I do know that the friend actually worked for Reagan. The story goes that Reagan asked Bush whether he had seen the new warning they had put on condoms. When Bush said no, Reagan said, "Well, I guess I have to unroll mine farther than you do."