Esoteric Bowl

There have been occasions in life where I have done things without thinking. Real silly things that make no sense whatsover, and no amount of time passing can remove the stigma of idiocy nor the embarrassment of my actions. Fortunately, we have the ability to laugh at ourselves.

When I was around five years old, I developed a rash in the region surrounding my groin area. It looked very much like a diaper rash, but I assure you that I was wearing big-boy pants for a long time by then.

To care for the problem area, each day I had to apply some kind of ointment. It might have been Desitin, but it’s not important for the story. Anyway, the ointment caused the area to dry, which caused a chain reaction of chafing and peeling. I had to go to the doctor, yada yada yada, got scraped, yada yada yada, given new medication.

On the following day, I was in the bathroom with every intention of applying the medication. However, (this is where the moment of not thinking comes in) I decided rather than treating the area with the medication prescribed by the doctor, I would instead use the ChapStick which belonged to my oldest brother. I don’t know why I did what I did, nor do I have any recollection of giving the action much thought prior to doing it. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time, so I did it.

Fortunately, ChapStick used in such a way will not cause serious medical problems. However, the concerns for health increase substantially when oldest brother walks into the bathroom at the same time his ChapStick is being used. I was punched repeatedly, and then informed that Dad would be notified immediatly of my infraction.

Dad was cool about it all. He told me to leave other people’s things alone, and that was the end of it. Oldest brother then walked off in a huff, hoping instead that my butt would have met a firmer form of justice. I looked at Dad and shrugged, not having anything to say for myself. “Just beautiful,” he said with a shake of his head and with a look that only father’s can give. “I’ve got one son with chapped lips and another with chapped dick.”

When mustard first became available in squeeze containers, it was a natural fit. And when ketchup hit the shelves in similar squeeze-like bottles, it ended much of the ketchup an….tici…..pation and laid to rest the lost art of bottle thumping. And when mayonaise was put in squeezable containers, it was revolutionary, for no longer would lovers of mayo be forced to endure the horrific sound of a knife’s hollow rattle in an empty jar.

While recently shopping, I discovered that the family of squeeze packaging had a new addition. It somewhat surprised me to see it on the shelves in squeezable form, and I had to do a double-take to make sure it was actually Skippy.

Perhaps I never noticed before, but there’s a lot of squeeze merchandise nowadays. Kitchen products, bathroom products, food products, here a squeeze, there a squeeze, everywhere a squeeze-squeeze. Yup, there’s a lot of squeezing going on. Let’s face it, we are a squeezing people. We love to squeeze. Squeeze bottles, squeeze tubes, you name it and we’ll squeeze it.

Outside my home I could hear a woman’s voice coming from the University Aquatic Complex public address system.

Apparently there was a diving competition in progress. I grabbed the camera and walked over to the campus, hoping to find a few photo opportunities. As I neared the complex, the woman continued to read the judges scores of the individual divers; 68, 69, 71, 69, 68.

When I entered the complex, I saw a small crowd of people watching as the divers took their turns jumping off the boards. The divers weren’t part of the University dive team nor members from a visiting university. Rather these divers were elderly men in their 60’s and 70’s. I jokingly wondered to myself, if it were the individual scores the woman was reciting or the ages of the divers.

But these old-timers were performing some impressive dives. I definately could do no better. I was impressed with their technique and agility and their enthusiasm to give it the old college try. Still, it does take a moment for the eyes to adjust when first seeing men the age of my father wearing spandex shorts.

I pulled myself from the bed and walked into the kitchen. I poured some leftover coffee into a mug, placed it inside the microwave and pushed the reheat keys for forty seconds. As I waited for the coffee, I noticed that the air in the room was rather stale and stuffy. I grabbed the Glade aerosol spray and with a few squirts of the French Vanilla fragrance the room was instantly refreshed.

The coffee was now heated. I carefully removed the mug from the microwave and took my first few sips of coffee for the day. Mmmm…I think I created my own house blend. Medium-bodied roast with a hint of French Vanilla.

Speaking of coffee, Starbucks says that the Four Fundamentals of proportion, grind, water and freshness is the recipe to a great cup of coffee. Ironically, I think these are the same four fundamentals that Cosmopolitan magazine gave a few months back for the recipe to better sex.

Sometimes I purposely fall asleep with the television on. At times, the constant flow of noise in the background is more soothing than the silence of the night. Prior to falling asleep, I will check the programing of the various channels in say, the next four hours or so. I do this to avoid waking in two hours time to the sudden increase in volume of the National Anthem blaring or the alarm-like tone of the Off Air signal.

In checking the channels, I also avoid specific programing. Basically, I don’t want anything on television during my sleeping hours that I wouldn’t have on during the hours when I’m awake. Considering that I’ll be asleep and that I can ususally sleep through just about anything, it shouldn’t matter what is being televised during that time. I know this, but it’s still one of those little things that somehow matters. I suppose that similar to certain kinds of music, some television programing is more conducive to sleeping to.

Your Baban’s home has a particular scent
a mixture of steamed rice and green tea
with a faint smoky stream of incense burning
and a nostalgic fragrance of tatami

Your Parent’s home has a particular scent
a mixture of steamed rice and green tea
with miso soup simmering on the stove
and ikebana atop the tv

Your Aunt’s home has a particular scent
a mixture of steamed rice and wealth
with a fragrance of imported furniture
and an old small dog in failing health

Your Brother’s home has a particular scent
a mixture of steamed rice and Spaghetti O’s
with small children and koi tanks in need of cleaning
and the crumbs from half-eaten Oreos

Your Sister’s home has a particular scent
a mixture of brown rice and Earl Grey
with a faint perfume of Clearasil
and tiled floors made of Mexican clay

Your home has a particular scent
a mixture of steamed rice and bamboo
with a fresh aroma of andagi
and the sweet bouquet of you.

Cupid’s arrow forever to miss
until I saw her face;
Thought that it would always be like this,
Cupid’s arrow forever to miss;
Then I felt the bliss
in her warm embrace;
Cupid’s arrow forever to miss
until I saw her face.