29 Apr 2016

And Then A Blister...

Head Rambles has a post on a subject close to my heart relating to modern packaging. Every item you buy seems to be in a bulletproof plastic and indestructible cardboard disaster area does it not? Let’s not forget those staples that, although invisible to the human eye, are always ready and able to bury themselves into your fingers and palms.

An interesting by-the-by to this is a problem I’ve run into, admittedly only a slack handful of times, but annoying nevertheless.

You purchase an item, get it home, spend the rest of the day extracting the item from it’s bombproof blister pack, only to find it isn’t the type you thought it was. This seems to happen more frequently the older you get by the way.

What to do? Dig the receipt and destroyed packaging out of the trash and head for the store, explain the problem only to be told they can’t take it back as the packaging has been opened. You can stand there all day arguing your case, gradually, over time, forgetting why you were where you are and why you’re shouting at a complete stranger who just keeps repeating, “Didn’t you read our returns policy?”

That’s even more annoying than the old screw thingy. I’ve said it before and I’m typing it again; you need three two inch number eight screws to  finish the job and all they sell now, owing to the demise of the old Ironmongers shops, and I still love the little joke at the end of that post, is ridiculously priced packs of a thousand. Man, I hate that.

During a globally warming journey yesterday, we arrived at our destination with two inches of white, icy warming covering the car. The blizzard only lasted about fifteen minutes but he was a beauty! A fitting, freezing time for the old Brooklyn Ode To Spring:

Spring is sprung
Der grass is riz
I wonder where dem boidies is?
Der little boids is on der wing.
Ain’t dat absoid?
Der little wings is on der boid!

So, let’s have some old, very pleasing easy listening that’s also something a tad different. Give it bass people. Did I just say, ‘So,’? No? Well, I must’ve typed it then... Damn!


Quote;  Homaro Cantu.

“With a little more tweaking, we could make orange juice in the orange without any packaging or processing.”


Caratacus said...

Ref: the Brooklyn poem, I remember this from somewhere or other,
"Toity poiple boids, sitt'n on de koib,
A-choipin' an' a boipin'
An eatin' doity woims"

Ahh- the benefits of a grammar school education :-)

Mac said...


And that Sir, was one of my fathers favourites. If memory serves me, it may, I say again, may, have been penned by Damon Runyon and possibly from Guys and Dolls.
The bit I very vaguely remember from that book, last looked at forty years ago? and the musical never watched, was the bit about gambling;
“Never bet against a guy who says the jack o' spades is gonna pop out o’ the deck and squirt whisky in your ear. If you do, for sure you’re gonna get an ear full o’ whisky.”