Rx for Toilet Paper Shortage

There is a crisis looming on the horizon and I'm going to tell you how to deal with it. It seems that in the very near future we will face a toilet paper shortage.  In the current coronavirus crisis people are hoarding toilet paper. And I, a old
country boy, cannot understand why someone would buy every roll of toilet paper they can find. Does the threat of the virus carry a threat of diarrhea? Since TP is paper and made from trees, where is the outcry from the tree huggers? I just don't understand.

There are solutions. Since seventy-five percent (75%) of the world's population does not use toilet paper, perhaps all those who want to be considered citizens of the world rather than Americans should add to this percentage. Ever notice how a middle easterners never eat with their left hand. H-m-m! Obviously the left hand is used for some unclean chore.  There are other solutions. One is to use a wash cloth. And, of course, the other is paper.

Not just any paper. A long, long time ago (maybe not that long ago) in rural areas where outdoor toilets were common a simple solution was found for the lack of the commodity.  Many rural folks never had toilet paper, BUT they had other paper.  Newspapers, magazines and mail-order catalogues. There was a technique for using these to cleanse themselves after a number two. First. You had to chose the correct paper  if possible. Coated papers such as those in magazines such as National Geographic are not very absorbent. The best paper is newsprint although in the olden days Sears, Roebuck and Company's annual catalogue served this purpose well.  Currently, newspapers are printed with soy-based inks so this is a big plus for those with anti- big oil interests. In another political statement you could use the newspaper produced by company toward whose credibility you question. Second.  Process the paper (about 5.5 x  8.5in.) by continuously crushing the paper with both hands. This process breaks up the fibers in the paper and makes it soft but not so soft that you stick you finger through it. Usually by the time your body and completed it's bodily function the paper will be soft. However, there is one caveat.  If, per chance, you are suffering from some mild constipation, you may crumble the paper until it falls apart in you hand.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel if such a crisis should befall us.  Should you be without toilet paper very long, you will become and expert on processing other papers as a substitute.

TARGETED

Seventy-five years old and targeted. That’s me. It could be you.  Who would have thought that old age could be wrought with so many dangers. I’ve been doing pretty well taking care of myself.  I did have and still have that problem (I hate the term issue!) with CHF, Congestive Heart Failure. Exercise is a necessary evil.  We follow a plant-based diet, but I dream of pulled pork barbecue. However, I believe the end justifies the means. 

With all that effort the news media and health care professionals now say that I’m a target.  What did I do to deserve this? I got old.  I was helpless to do anything to slow or stop the aging process.

I’m a part of the targeted group for the coronavirus. I feel that people in my age group are being singled out by the coronavirus and I don’t think it’s fair. 

We are coping with this discriminatory virus by following the government guidelines, while hoping all the time that the person giving out the advice didn’t get his job because he was a golfing or fishing buddy of the person in the position of power. We live in an age when you can’t always believe what you read, see or hear.  

As old people we’re used to being alone and being unemployed. It makes the “social distancing” easier. We are familiar with doctor’s office visits and getting medical prescriptions filled. By design our aged digestive systems don’t work too well and usually require medication to work properly. Just by reducing the laxative consumed we can reduce the amount of toilet paper required. We might be old, but we ain’t dumb! 

While I have written the piece with humorous intent, some of my friends, and maybe even I, will not see the return to normal life in this country I love. Perhaps, things may never be the same,... but maybe things will be better!

Old Man vs. TSA

I'm all for security. Since the inception of TSA, the Transportation Security Administration, there have been no major incidents on domestic  airlines. 

However, recently, in Phoenix, Arizona, an incident occurred that strained my relationship with that  organization. 

It was raining in Phoenix. (That in itself, rain in the desert, should have been a bad omen.) But there I was in the Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport boarding a plane for Hotlanta. I was using all my smarts to get through airport security quickly. I mean, you don't want to be one of those people who hold up your fellow travelers. I had placed my watch and college ring in my carry-on bag along with my cellphone and tablet. That way I would only have to take off my belt before going through the metal detector. Boy did I feel smart. 

That feeling faded quickly. I think I appear to have a hearing disorder because I'm old with a white beard. This small lady in a TSA uniform must have thought so, because she kept yelling at me. 

"Take off your shoes!"

I got 'em off and placed in one of the plastic tubs only to see that I had a hole in my sock. I could feel the eyes looking at me. You'd think no one had ever seen a toe before!

"Empty your pockets!"

"Take off your belt!"

It was unnerving. I complied but questioned why I should put my boarding passes in the plastic bin to go through the x-ray machine. 

"Just do it!" She yelled.

I watched all my stuff in the plastic bins move slowly down the conveyor belt going out of sight at the x-ray machine.

"Whew!" I exhaled and entered the short line in front of the metal detector. The man in front of me stepped through and I was about to when a lady in a TSA uniform blocked the entrance with a do not enter sign.

I abruptly moved to the more sophisticated metal detecting machine close by. There were four people in front of me.  After one person had gone through, the machine that was closed down was operating again.  I jumped in that line because it was moving faster. But, yes, it happened again. This time I got in line for the slow fancy machine and decided that I would change lines no more.

When I got into the machine I had to hold my arms out while a scanning device circled around me. It was quick and fast, I thought I was home free and started to go to where my stuff was that had been x-rayed when I heard a big masculine voice say, "Just a minute, Sir!"

Yes, he was talking to me, and he was a big man in a TSA uniform.

"I'm going to frisk you," he said. 

I did not object. He could have his way with me. Just let me get on that plane for Atlanta. He instructed me to stand with my feet apart and my arms outstretched. 

"Anything in your pockets?"

"My wallet." 

"Take it out.  Hold it in your hand!. Anything else?"

"Two cough drops and a wad of lint."

"Take them out and hold them in your hand!"

I heard the public address system,"Delta flight 2248 will be boarding from Gate C-3 in fifteen minutes."

He then began the pat down of my body. At the point where my legs attach to my body he touched places that only my doctor touched. As he moved his hands down my legs my pants started to slide down. ( I have lost some weight, which, until now, I had been proud of.) I was afraid people would see my pink underwear. A helpful desk clerk in Madrid had done our laundry and had not separated the whites from the colored.

"Grab your belt loops," the man from TSA said. 

I did but dropped a cough drop.

"Do you need that cough drop", he asked.

"I can live without it!" 

They had begun boarding our flight. He looked at me and said, " You have to take everything out of that wallet piece by piece so we can examine it, or we can x-ray it."

I frantically asked,"Which is faster?"

"X-ray."

"Go for it!"

By the time I had put my shoes on he returned my wallet to me. 

My wife, Claudette, had all my stuff retrieved from the x-ray machine. As we walked toward the gate where  our plane was waiting I said, "We just had to save money by not buying 'pre-check service' didn't we?"

Afterthought: "When We're Old"