Disposablenation

You’d
think by the time I got to my age I‘d have picked up a
certain amount of common sense about some things. I suppose
it’s just too much to ask. I am constantly amazed at some of
the dumb things I do. I’ve talked to other men and find I am
not alone in this manner. It seems that most men, or at
least American men, do things and then read the directions.
I bet most of you out there have assembled something and
then found several pieces left over. You were then faced
with two options, starting over or throwing them away since
you figured they weren’t needed in the first place. Most of
us just chunked them and made the decision that we could
live with what had been created, even if it was less than
perfect. It’s only later that we find that the missing parts
were necessary for some seldom used, but desirable function,
but by the time we found we couldn’t make the thing work due
to our assembly error, we also discovered that we had
misplaced the parts along with the instruction manual, so
we’re forced to accept this as a form of karma or fate. Of
course this results in some creative thinking to make up for
our initial stupidity.



“You could use the blender for that, but since I lost the
top to it, just stick a bunch of paper towels over it and
have at it, it should be ok.” Or how about…” I took the
discharge thingy off of the lawn mower and don’t remember
what I did with it, so be careful and don’t stick your feet
close to it when you get it started.” Events such as these
are the nuts and bolts of emergency rooms throughout the
country. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I have
come close to losing several of my vital body parts by doing
dumb things with the garbage disposal. Gun control is one
thing; disposal control to me is much more dangerous.
Legislation is definitely needed in this area.



Don’t get me started on medication. I’ve always believed if
they say take one, then taking two will just speed up the
process and make you get well that much faster. This is
wrong, wrong, wrong. My brain cannot process small pills.
For medicine to be effective, I need large, giant pills.
When I see a small tablet the size of a pencil point, I just
say to myself…”That can’t be too potent, look how small it
is….” Needless to say this is one of my dumber moves and not
one I repeat very often since it tends to make you either
crazy, sicker than you were a potential candidate for
emergency room treatment or all of the above.




Now
this past week I racked up another one for the family
history book. I suppose my kids and grandkids will have
enough to laugh about for generations to come after I’m long
gone.



In my garage at home sits an old blue pickup truck which I
use for hauling stuff like trees, bushes and various things
from the hardware store. This truck has a leaking gas tank.
Now, since I don’t use it very often, it isn’t high on my
list of things to fix. I took it out the other day and
filled it up, forgetting that the tank was still leaking. So
what happens, the stuff leaks out all over the garage floor.
Now this is bad enough, but the real problem is the fumes.
These seem to accumulate in the car I drive each day. By the
time I get to work, I’m about half goofy from breathing
gasoline fumes all the way to the office. I’m also getting a
headache and start taking sinus medication thinking it’s the
stuff in the trees again.



My son, who has a college degree and is much smarter than me
gets in my car the other day to go to lunch and nearly
passes out from the gas fumes. He insists I pull the truck
out of the garage, which I do. He insists I clean up the
gasoline on the floor, which I do.



He suggests that I might want to get some air freshener to
spray inside of the car to make the smell go away.



Now, this is where my brain goes haywire. I proceed to drive
to the local car wash where I know they have a varied
assortment of air fresheners.



But, do I do what a sane person should do and buy just one
and use it?



No, not on your life. I buy four. The clerk should have
stopped me. I’m out of control.



Then I spray all of them inside the car, thinking they can’t
all be very powerful, can they?



Now, I have a car that has a gasoline, vanilla, citrus,
strawberry, watermelon smell to it. It’s very hard to
describe. You’d have to sit in it to believe it. My throat
has seized up and my nose has closed for the season. I’m
glad I don’t have to sell this car anytime soon; I bet I’d
have to pay someone to take it off of my hands. More lessons
to learn.