Millenials are killing napkins

When I was a tot, our household had napkins, paper towels, toilet paper and tissues (we called them Kleenexes). One day visiting one of the proto hipsters of my adolescence, I noticed the guy had a roll of toilet paper prominently displayed on his desk. When I sneezed, he pulled off a block or two and gave them to me. From then on, I never bought tissues again, at least until my fiftieth birthday.

Recently I came across two articles about how millennials had substituted paper towels for napkins. It made me realize I, myself, hardly a millennial, had stopped buying napkins in my twenties and still don't own any. I have to admit I don't host dinners in my kitchen, but still...

Napkins and tissues are things that are supposed to re-emerge in a man's life after he gets married, gets a mortgage, and starts hosting dinners at home. There is the matter of ascetics. Especially if you have company over, a paper towel in a place setting is pretty UGH. An old fashioned cloth napkin is best, but to be more informal a paper napkin with a cutesy picture is also acceptable.

For me, eating a meal in front of the television, I find paper towels work fine. I buy paper towels in groups of ten to save money.  Unlike fruit and vegetables, paper goods last a long time. Now that I'm aware of the decline of paper napkins, I'm tempted to buy a pack. With a cute design. To be ironic.

Why did the chickens cross the road

Yesterday I was driving through Imlaystown, a rustic old town south of Freehold, on the way to a hike. Suddenly I had to halt for a chicken crossing. Like movies made in scenic Italy, the chickens seemed to have the right of way. There they were, with a few brightly decorated roosters ( a fellow hiker said the were accompanied by peacocks, although I cannot attest to this). I honked but that only made them freeze in the road. Finally they started up again in their journey. The chickens crossed the road.

I made it to the hike on time and used the porta potty. Using the porta potty is one of the pleasures of travel in the United States.

Editor's note: It's wonderful to know New Jersey still has its backwoods towns where chickens still amble across Main Street.

Mother's day sentimentality

I am not going to denigrate Mother's Day. When it's convenient it can be fun. You buy her a present and in return you get to eat a good meal and drink a couple of Dad's or your siblings beers. Mothers deserve a day. Mothering children can be a thankless task.

 It being a cold and rainy day I've been spending time on Facebook and reading all the things people say about their Moms. It's led me to a theory that Mother's qualities increase exponentially with the years.

When you are young you have a different view of dear Mother. The college student is in the basement with a few pals, smoking a joint and drinking Pop's beer. The last voice he wants to hear is Mother's yelling down from the kitchen.
"You know, we are going to early mass tomorrow. Don't be too late getting to bed!"

Then you get older and can't wait to get away from the house. You are in your own pad and the phone rings. Maybe it's that lady you spoke to at the party. No, it's your mother. You try to be polite but get rid of her as soon as possible.

Then she gets sick and you argue with your brother about whose turn it is to take her to the doctor. "I would love to take her but we have an important meeting at work on Tuesday."

After your mother passes away she is rehabilitated in your minds. Her goodness expands while those moments when you argued with her or was mad at her go away. After a decade or two she becomes the saint who always was your guide to life and who you miss so much. That is when we see all the goop that people are putting on Facebook this weekend. Putting sentimental pictures up on Facebook is a nice way to spend an hour while your clothes are drying. Oh I wish Mom was still alive. I hate doing laundry.

High heels

As we sit in our kitchens contemplating nuclear war with Korea, a new controversy has emerged, thanks to our friends in jolly olde England. Apparently there is a group that does not like the idea that companies in Britain can force females to wear high heeled shoes. The government apparently refused to change the law but promised a guidance letter to be issued this summer.

One one hand, when I'm in a fancy nightclub or restaurant (admittedly a rare event) I've always thought it was nice to have a waitress in a short dress and high heels. On the other hand, for the price of a free cup of soup I might even be willing to forgo that pleasure. The women in Britan argue that it is a sexist situation, since men are never required to wear high heels to the office. That is true, I don't even own a pair.

Bill O'Reilly

For years I have watched Bill O'Reilly before going to bed. I like him because he is in the "spin free zone". Now he's in trouble. Why? Because he always tell the truth. I'm of the opinion that it's always the woman's fault. If you want to leave their husbands and go on tv I guess they have the right but to bring down a decent person like old Bill isn't right.

Easter

A few years ago I wrote an Easter blog. Happy Easter. Today was also my old man's birthday.

Self flushing toilets

I have a gripe. The gripe is about the new self-flushing toilet they put in at work. The theory is that most people are too lazy or too distracted to flush the toilet. However I have a gripe. After I do my business and stand up to horse around with the toilet paper it flushes. Then, after I put in the toilet paper I have to flush it again. I don't see how turning one flush into two flushes is efficient or saves water. 

Yesterday I was sitting on the john thinking about my pension when suddenly the toilet flushed unexpectedly. I felt like I was using a bidet as I got an unexpected rinse in a place I wasn't expecting. Seems the water was higher than usual due to toilet paper or something jamming the mechanism. I guess it could have been worse. New Jersey, unlike some states, doesn't have alligators in the sewer systems.