Friday, October 8, 2010

Laundrynaut

Preface:
The day I turned 16 years old and I got the keys to my $100 wonder (it was a wonder that the thing ran at all).  The $100 wonder was a well used and worn out 1956 4 door Chevrolet Bellaire, also known as the “Green Apple”.  The “Green Apple” was aptly named for its verde hue of “GT Green” (also known as Goose Turd Green).  The Green Apple was my passport to an almost incurable case of wanderlust.  By the time I graduated high school, my best friend Roy Henslee and I camped all of east Texas, western Louisiana, and some of southern Arkansas.  There is nothing like a good road trip. 


I was talking to a couple of my young co-workers and the conversation reminded me of some of the odd things I have done in my past.  I asked my two (2) young co-workers “How many of us in this room are Laundrynauts?”  I found myself the only one in the room with his hand extended.  Not only were Andy and Coy not Laundrynauts but they actually had never heard the term.  I recounted a road trip to Deep East Texas not long after turning 16 years old.  We were camping in a Corp of Engineers park named Magnolia Ridge between Woodville and Jasper and just north of Town Bluff Texas.  The only reason that we were camping at Magnolia Ridge was that the State of Texas would not allow us to camp in Martin Dies State Park since we were all under 18 years of age.  It was no doubt a dull evening around the campfire when Roy begins to talk about becoming a Laundrynaut.  He had heard that if you make three (3) consecutive rounds in a commercial clothes dryer you get to attach Laundynaut to your personal list of accomplishments.  The reader must realize that man had not walked on the moon at this time.  On this particular road trip there were three (3) of us, Roy Henslee, Ricky Holmes, and myself.  Since Roy did not have this accomplishment attached to his resume the vote was unanimous.  We jumped into the Green Apple (aka 1956 4 door Chevy) and headed to town.  Calling the location that I became a Laundynaut a town would be a stretch of the truth.  Town in the case was several old and some abandon buildings on a farm to market road north of Town Bluff Texas.  One of operating buildings was a washateria.  The procedure for becoming an official Laundynaut was to climb into a commercial clothes dryer while your buddy stood outside with the door open (safety first) and held down door button simulating the door being shut.  Your buddy places a dime in the coin slot and turns the knob and activating the clothes dryer.  Ricky was first to “blast off”.  Ricky was the tallest of the group at around 6’-0” he went in to the dryer head first as Roy and I pushed his lower extremities into the dryer drum.  I am sure that Ricky had the very same look on his face that Chuck Yeager had when he nodded his head indicating ”ready” in the launch of the experimental rocket X-15.  Roy dropped the dime into the slot, turned the knob placing the dime into the cash box, and quickly pushed the button.  Ricky braced for take off quickly made a successful three (3) round orbit.  I was next up for the honors.  We removed the dizzy and disoriented Ricky and I climbed in with the help of my “buddies”.  Roy, not wanting to waste any of the prepaid dryer time, hastily pushed the launch button again.  The only problem with that was that I did not get a chance to give one of those Chuck Yeager / cowboy up  / I am ready nods.  I was just launched when I was not actually in the launch position resulting in me falling from the top of the drum to the bottom of the drum with each cycle just like wet laundry.  I successfully made the required three (3) rounds of orbit but was pretty beat up and bruised from falling in the drum as it rotated.  Falling and hitting the drum was not nearly as painful as those flat bars that help agitate the drying clothes. I exited the capsule a little on the mushy side but still proud of my accomplishment.  Roy, learning from previous launches, quickly entered the dryer drum and assumed the launch position, bracing himself between the dryer drum and flat bar agitators.  I reached for the launch button as quickly as possible to return the favor of an unprepared launch to Roy, but he was way to fast for me still whirling from my orbits.  Roy made his entry into the roles of Laundrynauts unscathed although by the time his fligt took place the capsule (dryer drum) was beginning to heat up. 

Epilogue:
This is just one of thousands of great (great?) memories of my past.  Imagine of having an evening of fun in town for just a dime.  Reflecting back a helmet would have been a nice addition. 


Monday, October 4, 2010

A Toilet Paper Conundrum

I came across this in my achive of writings 



The other day I was sitting on the toilet staring at a wicker basket of new rolls of toilet paper.  The wicker storage basket is an idea that Admiral Hun stole from Linda Williamson while we were visiting in the Netherlands.   Our ½ bathroom is about the size theirs was with no storage space for spare toilet paper waiting to be called into service.

 I reflected on a controversy that the wife and I have when it comes to toilet paper.  This toilet paper controversy is multifaceted.  I was once verbally reprimanded for my choice of brands and type.  The rolls looked perfectly suitable for the purpose in my opinion.  The problem was that they were not big enough.  There were plenty of rolls in the package, just not enough paper on the rolls. 

The next trip to the store I was sure to study the all of the offerings.  After my final decision, I gave the package a squeeze to confirm my selection, just as Mr. Whipple told me not to do in my youth.  My ultimate selection of toilet paper had been found acceptable by my better half. 

We also have a controversy around our house about being Sam’s Club members (yes it is tied to toilet paper).  She wants to buy in bulk and I am opposed to the idea.  I shutter at the thought of coming home with 96 rolls of unsuitable “royal paper” (sorry it is a Boy Scout inference).  Well, anyway I am just generally opposed to Sam’s Club in the first place with only two people in the household. 

I sat staring at the toilet paper basket in a blank gaze, I realized that the real problem was not the type or the amount it was that I had to buy any toilet paper at all.  I realized that after living aboard for 12 years and using the marina’s facilities day in and day out that I had only purchased about 12 rolls of toilet paper in twelve years. I yearned for the days when I did not have to worry about type, quantity, and quality of toilet paper.  I only had to worry if there was enough on hand for the current job (sorry about the pun, I could not resist). 

Living aboard was the good old days.